


Hooker with a Badge of Gold

by daltonacademyfightclub



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Acts of Kindness, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Police, Blow Jobs, Community: wrestlingkink, Covert Operation, Forced Feminization, Genderfluid Character, Multi, OT3, Prostitution, Rimming, Secret Identity, copious amounts of wrestling allusions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 24,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5685691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daltonacademyfightclub/pseuds/daltonacademyfightclub
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt:</p>
<p>Dean and Roman work at/own a bar, Seth is the pretty young thing selling himself on the corner across the street from the bar.<br/>Except, plot twist: Seth's actually a undercover cop on a vice sting and would really appreciate it if the super hot guys from the bar across the street stopped trying to help him (bringing him hot food/pamphlets/condoms).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Setting Up Shop

“Explain to me why _I_ have to do this?” Seth asked, Bluetooth headset resting snugly on the shell of his left ear as he rooted through his closet for appropriately slutty clothes. “We have other female deputies that probably have _far_ better material than I do for this shit.” He pulled a cutout navy dress out with its hanger, examining it to determine whether or not is was truly fit for going out on the prowl.

 _Eh,_ he thought to himself as he imagined himself it in, the curve of his back out for anyone and everyone to see. _This’ll do for the first night._

“Because you’re the idiot who raised his hand along with Deputies Bella and Lynch when Lieutenant Cena asked who was a) free on weeknights and b) comfortable wearing skirts.” His superior, Sergeant Randall Orton, snorted on the other end of the line. “I have no qualms ‘bout what you do in the comfort of your own home, Rollins, but if you’re gonna open your mouth, you know you gotta back up your words.”

“Bet I’m the hot topic in the break room now, huh,” Seth grumbled, already picturing Owens and O’Neil from Bravo and Charlie Squad respectively running their mouths off. “Probably calling me all kinds of things.”

Orton chuckled. “And you know that if I found out about it, they would be sitting in Human Resources with impeccably-filed complaint forms within the hour. No one shits on Alpha Squad.”

Seth sighed. He had _some_ clothes from the women’s sections of stores, but he wasn’t in them full-time. There were just some days where he felt, well… more conventionally-feminine, and some of those days he just happened to have off. It was a nice change from the unisex officer uniform he wore most of the time.

“Look, if you want me to call Cena tonight, I’ll be more than happy to tell him that you’re not going to mix business with pleasure. But successful sting operations look damn nice on evaluations, and if you’re still looking to impress Punk, I know he’s in charge of it…”

“I _don’t_ have a crush on him,” Seth interrupted firmly, furrowing his brow as he held a maroon bodycon skirt up to his waist. “And of course he’d be in charge of it. It’s the vice and narcotics part of the division. How could he not?”

“Whatever you say, Rollins,” the sergeant replied, the unspoken _I don’t believe you one bit_ hanging onto every word. “What night did you say would be best, anyway?”

“Wednesdays. None of my shows are on.” _And it’s not like I have anyone to wait up for me,_ he added bitterly inside his head. “Why? Do I have to worry about you coming ‘round and trying to chat me up?”

That really made Orton laugh. “Why, Deputy Rollins,” he said, trying his hand (badly) at a Dustin Hoffman impersonation, “you’re trying to seduce me.”

“In your wildest dreams, Orton.” Seth put everything except for the navy dress back away in his closet before shutting the door. “But really, why are you asking me?”

“There’s a place downtown, not too shady, but it runs a Chicken Wing Wednesday special every week. Ten wings for eight dollars with your choice of dipping sauce.”

“I’m going to be _working_ , not eating -”

“I’m talking about going around there to pick up people who come out afterwards looking for a good time, genius, not you stuffing your face.” He heard the familiar sound of the other man shutting his file cabinet, signalling to those in the office around him that he was done for the day. “You have a couple days to think about it, but that’s what I suggest you do. Either way, I know you’ll do me proud.”

“Thanks,” Seth said, hanging the dress up on the back of his closet door in preparation for what was coming in the days ahead. He’d have to check the weather before he got ready to make sure he wasn’t going to freeze to death Wednesday night. He’d be damned if he was showing skin on the clock and getting frostbite in return.

* * *

 “So lemme get this straight, boss,” Roman heard Enzo say as he strained the rye whiskey and Angostura bitters combination into a chilled glass, turning around to present it to his head bartender. “You’re gonna give me, a native Brooklynite, a drink that you came up with for specifically _me_ to try, but automatically name it the ‘Brooklyn Brawler’?”

“It’s just a Manhattan without the sweet vermouth,” Roman explained as Enzo took a swig anyway. “Besides, you know you’re a whiskey connoisseur. It’s an honor to have you be the one to test this out.”

There was a loud scoff from the kitchen window as yet another Wednesday special was pushed through. “Don’t butter ‘im up, Ro,” Roman’s best friend and head cook, Dean, said. “You just weren’t about to try it yourself in case it was gross.”

Roman shot him a glare from across the window as Dean disappeared back down into the kitchen with a grin and Enzo set the empty glass back down. That was fast.

“Good. A little too dry for my tastes, but if you figure out a garnish, I think it’ll do just fine.” Enzo slid the glass down the bar to his friend and fellow bartender, Big Cass, who automatically got started cleaning once it slid right into his hands. “Tell you what: I’ll throw a vanilla cocktail cherry in there. That’ll do the trick.”

“So we can start selling it tonight?” Roman asked, already moving to take the “drink of the day” chalkboard down.

“Sure, fine by me.”

Enzo got himself busy with a couple of guys that made their way straight to the bar as Roman smiled and got out his chalk. He wasn’t in the habit of making new drinks up on a whim, but he’d been thinking about the mix for a couple days now and figured it couldn’t hurt. Besides, he reminded himself as he wrote the words “BROOKLYN BRAWLER” at the top of the board in big letters, he was one of the principal owners, after all.

The other principal owner of The Arm Bar was Dean, who Roman could hear whistling some off-key tune back in the kitchen. Dean and Roman had fancied themselves independent professional wrestlers when they were younger, but the dream had fizzled out when Roman realized that the money to take care of his young daughter just wasn’t coming and Dean fell funny and screwed his shoulder up pretty bad. A start-up loan from Roman’s parents and quite a few certifications later, the two of them were running the best damn sports (entertainment) bar in the tri-state area.

As usual, Dean took his nightly cigarette break around ten-thirty, Roman watching as he left the kitchen, untied his apron straps from around his waist, and pulled his lighter and cigarette pack out of the front pocket. He didn’t approve of the habit, but Dean used to be into harder stuff in an effort to stay sane. At least his best friend couldn’t get arrested for possession with a pack of Lucky Strikes.

Dean didn’t walk back in with the same relaxed swagger as he normally did, though. “Hey, I need to talk to you in the back,” Dean whispered in Roman’s ear, tugging on the hem of his shirt like a little kid urgently. “It’s not somethin’ we can talk about ‘round the customers out here.”

Roman frowned but followed Dean back to the back office, crossing his arms as Dean shut and locked the door behind them. “Is it really that bad? Did you like… see a mugging or something?”

“No, but it’s not _worse_ , it’s just not somethin’ good for mixed company, just - aw, hell.” Dean shook his head, biting his lip anxiously. “I’m just gonna tell you straight up.” Dean jutted a finger back in the direction of the main part of the bar. “We got a prostitute tryna get picked up across the street.”

Whatever Roman was expecting - and he wasn’t entirely sure _what_ he’d had in mind originally - didn’t involve sex work. “So what am I supposed to do about it? Go out there and scare the chick off?”

“‘S not a _girl_ ,” Dean replied, trying to be delicate with how he was wording things. “It’s a guy out there. In a skirt.”

“Huh.” Roman shrugged, letting his arms drop back to his sides. “I can call up the police, if that’ll ease your mind -”

“We can’t do that!” Dean exclaimed, sounding almost incredulous at the idea. “That guy’s out there tryna make an semi-honest living. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I got some poor guy down on his luck sent to jail.”

Roman sighed. As long as the guy didn’t come into the bar looking for trouble, he was really under no responsibility to have anything to do with him. But Dean was distraught, and a distracted chef made for a backed-up kitchen, so the least he could do was keep an eye on the guy for him.

“I’ll be on the lookout and let you know if the situation changes, alright?” Dean nodded, wringing his hands a little as Roman rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sure we have nothing to worry about.”

* * *

 Seth leaned against the light post, finding it pretty damn hard to look seductive after having tried for over three hours. He couldn’t even take his phone out in case he missed a potential opportunity and let some creep wander back out into the night.

Unfortunately, the only potential opportunity he’d had so far came from a guy standing and smoking outside of The Arm Bar across the street, and guessing by the apron he’d had draped over his front, he was just a worker out on break. Still, the guy seemed oddly interested in Seth. Maybe he was a potential john once he got off work for the night. A successful trap on his first night would be nice to walk into the office on Friday to brag about.

He looked back down at himself. The weather was nice enough to where he didn’t need a jacket, instead letting his open back and artificially (hey, not _everything_ had to be natural) padded ass show out to passing drivers on the road. Handcuffs and his badge were tucked into a handbag he had up on one shoulder, and that handbag just happened to match his combat boots.

Sure, it was kind of an odd combination, but when it was paired with a neutral lip, cat-eye liner, and a low bun, he kind of looked like Lara Croft about to go clubbing. Or so he thought, anyway.

Around midnight, though, nature was finally calling. Seth looked across the street at The Arm Bar, contemplating walking inside to use the bathroom in there and getting gawked at - or worse, recognized - before deciding against it. The risk and, honestly, the shame factor was a little too much for him to deal with tonight.

He looked back behind him at the alleyway between the downtown branch of the city bank and a clothing store. Going there would have to do for now. He mentally reminded himself to bring an empty water bottle in his bag next time for situations like these.

He wasn’t in the alley for more than two minutes at most (he had to check his phone, just in case), but when he came back, there was a little white styrofoam takeout container and a fresh bottle of water on the ground where he was standing. When he picked up the box, it was still warm, even on the outside.

Opening up, Seth discovered that he was the recipient of a free Chicken Wing Wednesday special.

 _Is this really happening?_ Seth asked himself as he tentatively picked up one of the chicken wings, sniffing it for some reason he himself wasn’t even sure of. _I’m out here pretending to be a prostitute, and I get free chicken wings?_

He ate the wing slowly, putting the leftover bone back in the container before licking his fingers and closing the box once more. On the top of the box, he saw that he had overlooked a note, most likely written out to him by whoever had gifted him with the meal.

_Hey,_

_Times might be tough now, but it gets better. We promise. :)_

_P.S. - Stay safe!_

Seth took the taped-on note off of the box, folding the tape down to put it in his bag. This was an extremely kind gesture, even though he really didn’t need it in the first place. As he peeled off the note, he noticed that there was a square foil-wrapped package with a round indent in the middle.

A condom, he realized with a low chuckle, taking it off of the styrofoam as well. Nice of his anonymous donors across the street.

He looked back across the street, into the bar, and saw that he was being looked back at in return. Two men were behind the bar, the worker with the apron from before and another man, taller and tanner with long dark hair, and they seemed pleased that Seth had received their care package.

Seth smiled to himself, opening the box and looking back down at the remaining nine chicken wings. He was awfully hungry, and the wings were only going to get cold otherwise…

He leaned on the light post once more, picking up another wing with one hand and holding the box open with the other. _Just for tonight,_ Seth told himself. _Just this once._


	2. Filling Out the Top

Seth came back to his apartment around three in the morning that night (or was it considered morning?), completely worn out. Maybe the area around The Arm Bar was just too _decent_ to be a potential cesspool of criminal activity.

He stood out on the corner in a dress, face beat for the gods, and he got fed in return. _That’s not a successful operation_ , Seth told himself as he slowly unbuttoned the dress from the top of his back. _That’s a successful drag show_.

He walked slowly to the bathroom in his boxer briefs and socks, taking care to not be too loud and wake up the sleeping pile of fur currently taking up residence at the foot of his bed. Kevin was his little baby, and considering how Seth was usually home most nights for dinner to feed him table scraps and scratch him behind the ears, the poor guy must’ve been worried sick when his owner didn’t come home before midnight.

 _Time to take all this off_ , he grumbled to himself, grabbing one of the makeup removal wipes he kept stashed at the back of the medicine cabinet. _I even contoured for this. Hell, I even_ shaved _for this._ He drug the wipe over his face, closing his eyes and feeling the slight drag as the cat-eye he’d spent ten minutes on perfecting was wiped away in a single swipe. Next was the lip stain, but considering how much he paid for the tiny bottle in the first place, it would have been better economically to just leave it on.

Eye makeup, gone. Lip makeup, gone. He watched as almost an hour’s worth of hard work came off on two wet wipes before looking down at himself.

 _Well,_ he thought, shaking his hips a little bit and making the front of his underwear move, _at least I didn’t tuck for this._

Seth looked at himself in the mirror, turning to see his body at all angles. He wasn’t the most jacked officer on the force, but he definitely had a little bit of definition to him. CrossFit after work and limiting carbs had done something for sure in the past year. In fact, him not having rippling muscles probably helped a little with his body image problems and filling out the skirts and female bottoms that he had tucked away. He turned all the way around from the mirror, looking over his shoulder at his ass. It could stand to see a few more squats.

Sighing tiredly, he looked at the clock on his dresser when he walked back into the bedroom. It was nearly half-past three, and even though he had the day off tomorrow, it wasn’t really a day off when he still had to go grocery shopping and clean up around the apartment.

He pulled on an old shirt he’d gotten back when he was still training in the academy, getting into bed carefully to try and not disturb Kevin, but it was no use. Even though the lights were out, he still heard the soft _mrrr_ noise as the little Yorkie woke up and padded up the bed to be with Seth.

“Hey, buddy,” he murmured, smiling as Kevin curled up on his chest and gave Seth’s shirt a lick. “Sorry I couldn’t make it home early tonight. I had work to do.”

Kevin smacked the bottom of Seth’s chin with his tiny nub of a tail, making him laugh. “Yeah, I know. I probably deserve that.” He stroked the feathery-soft fur of Kevin’s back with his fingers, closing his eyes as he tried to settle down for the night. He had to stop thinking about the two men behind the counter and what they thought of him. It was a nice gesture, but it probably wouldn’t happen again and it was stupid to fixate.

Still, it couldn’t hurt to visit The Arm Bar on one of his nights off and buy a couple of drinks (and maybe more wings, because the ten he got were delicious) to show his thanks. It’s not like they would recognize him from that far away anyway. He’d talk to Randy about it; since it was his idea to try that area, he’d probably like to go.

Either way, he’d be there next week. Same day, same time - _not_ the same dress.

* * *

“Dean, what are you doing?” Roman woke up at the relative asscrack of dawn to see Dean already at the desk in their bedroom, typing away on his laptop. “It’s fuckin’... it’s early, man. Come back to bed.”

“Can’t. I’m almost finished with the sign.” The click-clacking of the keyboard was the only noise in the room, Dean’s chicken-pecking style of typing only making it louder. “I want you to read it after I’m done.”

Roman groaned, putting his head back down on the pillow and grabbing Dean’s to hold onto. “I’m going back to sleep. You better be ready to open at five, or I’m kicking your ass into next week.” He heard Dean snort skeptically and he chucked the pillow at him. “I mean it. Be _up_.”

“Yes, mother.” Dean’s footsteps were heavy as he plodded across the room with his laptop to move to the kitchen. “When you get up, I’ll make you breakfast, whatever you want, s’long as you proofread the sign for me.” Roman felt hot breath on his cheek as Dean bent down to kiss him. “You’re better than me at the whole English thing.”

“Damn right,” Roman mumbled as he felt himself drift back off to sleep again. There was no use in arguing, especially if he was getting breakfast otherwise.

He woke up around half past nine, trudging to the bathroom to take a piss before going to the living room. Dean was still up, a two-liter bottle of seltzer water sitting on the coffee table next to his open laptop. For someone who ran a bar, Dean drank surprisingly little alcohol at any given time. Roman could never figure out why, but he figured that it was pointless to complain about a good thing.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Dean greeted him, leaning forward off the couch to take a swig from the bottle. “What’s on the menu for today?”

“Pancakes with raspberries in them, please.” Roman sat down on the couch, putting his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“And coffee?”

“Gimme the caramel creamer.” Dean nodded and kissed the top of his head, waiting until Roman lifted his head on his own before getting up to start on breakfast.

“Read my sign!” Dean called from the kitchen. “Tell me how you like it.”

Roman rubbed his eyes and scanned the page. It was a nice sign, more like an open letter, actually, but he was confused about what its actual purpose was. “Dean?” he called back, reaching over and turning on the TV with the remote on the table. “What’s this for, exactly?”

“It’s for the guy that was across the street from the bar last night. He liked the chicken wings, we both saw him smile at the note…” Dean leaned his head out of the kitchen, spatula in hand. “Maybe he’ll ‘preciate the offer.”

“It’s nice that you’re offering all this, Dean-o,” Roman said, “but we should really be keeping this guy at an arm’s length at _least_.” He got up and headed to the kitchen just in time to watch Dean pour the batter onto the countertop griddle. “We don’t know anything about him other than the fact that he likes chicken wings and has an ass that doesn’t quit.”

“Ro!” Dean looked scandalized. “He’s… he’s in a delicate place right now an’ you talk like he’s a piece of meat?”

Roman raised his eyebrows. “Like you didn’t at least take a look for yourself.” He walked past Dean to the fridge to make his own coffee. “I’m just saying that just because you kinda understand what the guy is going through, it doesn’t mean that you’re required to be his Lord and Savior.”

Dean sighed. “Just this once, and if nothing pans out, I’ll give up, alright?”

Roman chuckled and nodded, taking out the caramel creamer and setting it on the counter before kissing Dean’s cheek. “Alright, Mr. Bleeding Heart. You hang up your sign and we’ll see where things go.”

* * *

Seth straightened his skirt as he walked. He usually didn’t do metallics (too much attention, which he supposed was now the ideal), but here he was in a gold spandex skirt and flowy black top waiting for someone to try and make him their choice piece of ass for the night.

Thinking of it that way, for some reason, made him feel oddly better.

When he reached the light post in front of The Arm Bar, there was a piece of paper taped to it. It looked like it hadn’t been there for a long time, but the wear around the edges and the fact it hadn’t been there last week told him it had been up for at least a couple of days now. Getting closer, he got a look at what it said.

_Hello -_

_If you are reading this & going through some troubling times, please feel free to come across the street to The Arm Bar if you need to use the bathroom or get something to drink (non-alcoholic) or eat between the hours of 10 P.M. and 3 A.M. _

_If you do not feel comfortable using the front entrance, come around to the right side of the building to the loading dock and ring the buzzer. Someone will be happy to assist you._

_Sincerely,_

_The owners/proprietors of The Arm Bar_

He groaned. He didn’t know how long the paper had been on the light post, but he could almost guaran-fucking-tee that he was the reason it was taped there in the first place. After last Wednesday, the guys who gave him food and were watching from inside (now, he knew, probably the _owners_ of the place) must have figured he’d be back on the street corner again sometime. He was in way over his head, and it was only his second week on the job.

Seth considered going into the restaurant and asking to speak to one of them if they happened to be there, telling them about who he _really_ was and what he was doing out here, but he wasn’t sure if that was against the rules or not. All Punk had told him when he went to go ask for details about the case was that he wasn’t going to be able to be sued for entrapment because the interest of public safety and to wear something practical in case he had to run.

Never did it cross Seth’s mind to think that he would have to run from random acts of kindness.

He stayed at the light post as more and more people filed into the bar, most of them not taking much notice unless they were waiting outside. Around 10:30, the man with the apron came out to smoke just like the week before.

 _Go over there and talk to him,_ he told himself, watching the man closely as he produced a pack of cigarettes from one of his front apron pockets and a silver lighter from the other. _At least they’ll leave you alone afterwards._

The man looked back up at him after he lit his cigarette, a small smile lit up from the glow of the burning tobacco and the lights from inside. He wasn’t unattractive, not by Seth’s picky standards, but he had the look of someone who had actually scrounged around for a bit about him. Someone who might have once been standing where Seth was for a legitimate reason.

Minutes passed and neither of them made any move toward each other, the man putting out what was now his second cigarette in the outside ashtray before turning back around to look across the street one final time.

The man smiled again, managing a small wave, just enough to toe the line of being polite and friendly. Seth looked back with a shy smile, giving the man a final once-over before realizing that he was probably the guy who made the wings he’d gotten last week, or maybe even came up with the idea and did it himself.

Just before his grubby benefactor turned around, Seth waved back.


	3. In His Own Hands

“Deputy Rollins, in my office, please.”

Seth groaned as he got up from his desk, ignoring the strange looks he got from his colleagues that knew he was far from the biggest troublemaker in the UP division. But still, Randy - well, _Sergeant Orton_ \- obviously had something to say, and Seth knew better than to not hop to it when his superior beckoned.

“Yes, sir?” Seth asked, closing the door behind him instinctively. He had a sneaking suspicion that this was about him not being in the office as much, but it was only because he was out on patrol to make up for lost night shift hours. Just a time sheet infraction that he needed to explain and have redone.

“Take a seat, Rollins,” Randy said, tone still neutral. Seth complied, sitting down in the chair opposite the sergeant and feeling like a kid in the principal’s office.

Suddenly, the other man’s tone changed for the better. “So how’s the honey-trapping going?” he asked, kicking his feet up on the desk between them.

Seth gawked. “You called me in here to ask me about the operation?” He pointed back toward the door separating Randy’s office from the rest of the building. “I just got _stared at_ all the way in here because you never call me in here and now people are going to wonder what’s up -”

“Relax, Seth.” Randy looked like he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “I just figured that this wasn’t something the whole office had to hear about and, well… curiosity’s been getting the best of me these past two weeks.”

“You want to hear about me standing out on a street corner trying to pick up strange men -”

“In women’s clothing, yes.”

Seth narrowed his eyes defensively. He’d been through this song and dance routine before. “It’s not women’s clothing. It’s _my_ clothing, I bought it.”

Randy held his hands up in forgiveness. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You have to remember that I’m ignorant.” He cleared his throat, looking away from Seth to try and diffuse the tension a little bit. “I didn’t run into many people, um… quite like you back in Missouri.”

“There’s more of us than you think,” Seth said, before deciding the change the topic. Sexuality and gender politics didn’t make good water cooler talk, and he’d need a lot more time than what he figured he had now to explain it all to Randy properly. “Are you sure you want to hear about it, though? It’s kind of boring, actually.”

“What, you’re telling me that you’ve just been standing out there for six hours a night for nothing?” Randy wrinkled his nose. “Absolutely nothing’s happened at all?”

“Well,” Seth began with a shrug, “the owners of the place across the street gave me food and a condom the first night, so I guess that’s one thing. At least I managed to look the part.”

Randy started laughing. “Man, maybe _I_ should’ve volunteered myself for the operation. I get to look cute and get free food. It’s a win-win situation.”

Seth smiled as he thought about Randy, big masculine man that he was, following his own procedure and getting all dolled up for a night on the town. Then he pictured him putting on pantyhose for some reason, and well… the mental image had him moving to hide his crotch just in case.

“It’d be interesting,” Seth said diplomatically. “But while we’re talking about their food, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me - as you are, neither of us dressed like hookers - to The Arm Bar sometime other than Wednesday night this week. I figure I owe them something, since the owners were so nice to me.”

“You buying the drinks?” Randy leaned forward, suddenly extremely interested.

“I’ll buy the first round.”

* * *

“Ro, I’m worried.” Dean leaned on the big door separating the main part of the building from the kitchen area. “That guy was back on Wednesday, I told you that already, but he hasn’t been around since.”

“Maybe he just didn’t want to stick around for too long in one place,” Roman offered, carefully pouring two red pepper martinis that he’d dubbed the ‘Celtic Warrior’. “Transients come and go through this city, you know that.” Honestly, he almost wished the guy was gone for good. Dean had been talking about him almost every day, wondering who he was, where he came from, why he chose to be in front of The Arm Bar, the whole nine yards. The sooner Dean stopped paying attention to what was pretty far from the strangest thing Roman’d seen in his twenty-nine years on this earth, the better.

Still, he’d never seen Dean as interested in someone else as he was interested in Roman before. Maybe it was jealousy, not very deep down.

Dean just sighed and went back to the kitchen, door swinging behind him as Roman sighed back in reply. As he handed off the drinks to Enzo to serve to their waiting buyers, two men he’d never seen before came and sat at the end of the bar.

“Now, don’t get fancy with it, Randy,” the one with longish hair and what appeared to be a fading blond streak chided. “I’m buying the first drink, but everything else you order’s on you.”

“Whatever you say,” the other one - Randy, apparently - replied, turning his attention to the TV above the main aisleway of tables where a ‘Back to the ‘80s’-type wrestling special was playing. Roman hadn’t seen some of those matches in years, but now that he was getting another look at them, he could’ve waited to see them a while longer.

“Man, I loved that guy with the wild west gimmick,” Randy continued, looking wistfully up at the screen. “Guy sure knew how to pull off chaps.”

Roman cleared his throat, getting both of their attentions back on the bar. “Welcome to The Arm Bar. Can I get you guys a list of our available drinks for tonight?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Fading Blond Streak said, turning slightly pink for some reason. He was cute, Roman had to admit, but he and Dean were pretty much exclusive at this point. “Do you happen to serve wings tonight too, by any chance? I know you do on Wednesday, but me and my friend here -”

“Hey, I’ll have what that lady is having down there,” Randy cut in, thumb jutted back at a woman who was sipping on a spicy ginger, bourbon, and tart lemon juice concoction Dean had dubbed a ‘Goldust’. “Got liquor in it?”

“Bourbon,” Roman replied, looking back at Fading Blond Streak, who had grown decidedly redder since the last time he and Roman had made eye contact. “Yeah, we got wings. Two baskets of eight?”

Fading Blond Streak nodded, finally looking down at the menu that Roman had put in front of him on the bar. “Uh… what’s the ‘Del Rio’?”

“Pear nectar and cinnamon with reposado tequila. It’s served in a double old-fashioned glass, if you’re concerned about the size.”

The man in front of him ventured a look back up. “I’ll have that for myself, please.”

Roman nodded and whisked the drink menu away, heading back down the bar to give Big Cass the two orders and call back about the wings to the kitchen. Yet something about this Fading Blond Streak guy made Roman get a weird feeling of déjà vu he hadn’t had before the guy and his friend came in.

“Hey, hey, Dean.” Roman kept his head slightly in the kitchen window until the head of his best friend appeared in front of him like a gopher poking out of the ground. “Get a good look at the dark-haired guy at the end of the bar next to the one with all the tattoos.” He waited until Dean did, watching his gray-blue eyes squint slightly before looking back at Roman. “Don’t he look familiar somehow?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen his general… being before.” Dean looked down at the ticket with two orders of wings on it, saying “huh” under his breath softly. “We got wing orders on a Tuesday?”

“Big boys gotta eat,” Roman said with a grin, watching Dean smile back as he moved the ticket to the side of the window. “Make me a small plate of nachos too while you’re at it.”

“Show me a ticket,” Dean challenged.

“I’ll show you the back end of my fist if you don’t get me some cheesy chips, punk.”

Dean chuckled and disappeared back down into the kitchen again, muttering something about no-good managers and forming a kitchen workers’ union as Roman watched Big Cass finish off Randy and Fading Blond Streak’s cocktails before walking back down to the other end of the bar himself to hand them to them.

“I have to ask, though,” Roman said, lifting his chin slightly in Fading Blond Streak’s direction, making him spring to attention. _Man, is this guy jittery or what?_ “You look awfully familiar to me for some reason. Have we met before?”

Fading Blond Streak froze for a second, probably thinking about it himself, before shaking his head no and picking up his drink. “No,” he replied, taking a sip. “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

* * *

Seth made his mind up the following night as he was walking from his car to his now-usual position under the light post to not set foot back in The Arm Bar as a paying customer until he changed his appearance dramatically. The guy who had waited on him - one of the owners, he reminded himself - was probably just a couple of brainwaves away from correctly pegging Seth as the male prostitute currently selling himself a stone’s throw away from The Arm Bar’s front door. He couldn’t risk anyone getting closer to finding him out.

Honestly, he was starting to like coming out here, though. The fact that no one really cared or paid him much mind meant that he was alone with his thoughts, which was comforting to some degree. That, coupled with the standing offer from the two owners to come over and take a load off, gave Seth some piece of mind that just because he was working didn’t mean that he was going it entirely alone.

 _I probably should ask Punk about revealing myself as an officer, though,_ he told himself as he made a mental note. _Just in case things_ do _end up getting a little hairy._

Speaking of hairy, the cook in the apron that was just coming out of the bar for his smoke break was looking particularly greasy tonight. Seth didn’t think it was too busy (certainly not busier than the week before, anyway), but maybe the guy had a lot on his mind tonight. He himself sure knew a little bit about the double lives people could be living.

They stood as they had for the past two weeks for a few minutes, casting aside glances at each other as the man burned through two whole cigarettes in five minutes. Seth tried not to show too much of his face, instead hiding behind his hair, which was finally down in loose waves for the night. The silence between them was nice and comfortable, even going so far as to say nonthreatening.

That was, of course, before the man put out his third cigarette in the ashtray and looked back at Seth one more time before starting to make his way across the street.

He panicked. Seth sure as fuck wasn’t a chicken, but he also wasn’t about to confront the man who had likely seen him as, well… a _man_ just the night before. Not only that, but if the guy was coming up to offer him anymore help, he might die on the spot. Being an accidental victim or whatever the hell was going on was not Seth’s strong suit.

Instead, he chose to cower somewhat behind the light post as the man made his way onto the sidewalk, letting the tilt of his head obscure his face from view with his hair.

“Hey, I’m not…” the man started, trailing off before looking Seth up and down. “Nice legs. I-I mean, as far as muscles go. You’ve got some killer calves.”

The man’s voice was rough but kind, its raspiness likely from the chain smoking that he had just finished across the way. It fit with the rest of him, sturdy and solid, but somehow soft-looking around the edges. He moved his hair slightly to get a better look through the strands, shaking his head.

“I’m not tryna pick you up or nothin’. Not that you’re not… nice-lookin’, but I’ve gotta finish my shift and I’m not in the habit of picking up hookers anyway.” Seth heard himself make a noise of disgust (probably since that was the first time anyone had actually _called_ him by his assumed profession) and watched the man blanche in embarrassment.

“Not that I don’t think you’re a good person or nothin’ just ‘cause you’re out here! Hey, the struggle is real, believe me. I’ve done some pretty weird shit to stuff the end of a pipe.”

The man took a step closer, turning his head to the side like Seth had his. “Can I see your face? I’m not going to report you; my friend and I who run the place - that was us with the notes and shit - have no plans of turning you in.”

 _Not that it would matter too much if I did get turned in,_ Seth wanted to say. He pondered the guy question for a moment, thinking about the potential repercussions of someone seeing his face close up, regardless of how much makeup he’d put on before he left. Now that all this was happening, he couldn’t help but curse himself for not doing a better job on his brows before he had to go.

Seth lifted his head up, tucking his hair behind one of his ears before smiling politely and extending his hand. “Hi, um… I’m Tyler.”

The guy smiled, _genuinely_ smiled, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans before reaching out to accept Seth’s handshake, gripping firmly. “Nice to meet you, man. Name’s Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it's not obvious, Randy's talking about his dad in the bar on the screen... though in this universe Bob Orton probably wasn't a real cowboy. Really, I should start a running count of how many different allusions I put in here, drink names notwithstanding.
> 
> Thank you for your kudos/comments so far! I love feedback and since I'm writing as I go, every little bit helps!


	4. And the Third

“Tyler.” Dean repeated the name of the man before him, letting the two syllables fall off his tongue in slow succession. His name was nice - not too plain like Dean but not as “out there” as Roman - and seemed to suit its owner fairly well. It wasn’t the only part about this guy that was pretty much perfect.

He realized he was still holding onto Tyler’s hand, and despite the fact that the other wasn’t letting go, he did, letting his hand fall back to his side. “What’s got you out here doing this, man?” Dean kept his tone calm, trying to come across as sounding as caring as he truly felt. “Rent money, drug debts, just… not-having-money-ness? Nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

“Rent and… other stuff,” Tyler mumbled, ducking his head again. _Pretty sure a shy hooker’s an oxymoron,_ Dean mused before focusing back on the situation in front of him. He’d been there before.

“I know the feeling,” he assured the other man with a smile, watching as Tyler looked back up with cautious eyes. “Told you pretty vaguely ‘fore, but before I opened up the bar with my buddy Roman, I coulda been out here doing this exact same thing.”

“Did you?” Tyler looked interested at that.

Dean shook his head no. “Nah, I was never wholesale. Most of the time I was suckin’ a very specific dick to pay for my crack.”

Tyler’s eyes widened and Dean found himself backpedaling. “I obviously don’t do either of those things anymore.”

“Yeah,” Tyler said with a smile. “You smoke now.” Well, he did have him there - Dean was no stranger to trading one vice for another.

“True, but I’m not doing crack anymore, and that’s what matters.” Dean leaned on the light post. “Wouldja like me to talk to Roman about you maybe working a few odd jobs ‘round the bar for us?”

“Uh, no.” Tyler’s answer was quick. “No, I’m, uh… not looking for a job during the day right now.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “You’ve got something else lined up?”

Tyler nodded, pushing his hair back away from his face, Dean noticing how it fell in soft, silky waves. “Yeah, I work during the day. This is just on the side.”

“More like on the corner,” Dean replied with a smirk, changing to a grin when Tyler snorted appreciatively. “That was a good one, huh?”

“It was alright.” Tyler said softly, smiling. “Thank you guys for the food, by the way. I really do appreciate it.” Dean made a _pfft_ sound, waving his hand and meaning to say that it was no big deal, they had plenty of food on Wednesdays to go around, but Tyler continued. “No, I mean it. You guys don’t need to do it again or anything, but it was a nice surprise.”

“Did you like them?” Dean asked hopefully, crossing his arms over his chest. “I made sure that you got fresh ones, since I didn’t know when you’d be back here again that night.”

“I loved them,” Tyler said, smiling even wider, and a part of Dean finally understood what Roman’s cousin Naomi meant when she said that even with makeup, the best thing someone could put on their face was a smile.

“You’ll have to come in and get s’more sometime, then,” Dean said, checking his watch out of habit and seeing that he was already five minutes late on coming back inside. “Shit, I’m late.”

Tyler nodded, preemptively waving goodbye when Dean looked back up. “I’ll be out here, still. But it was nice talking to you.”

“Same to you, man.” Dean wanted to go in for a hug for some reason, or at least a handshake, but he decided against it. He had only just learned the guy’s name that night, after all. Didn’t want to move the friendship forward too fast.

As Dean walked back into The Arm Bar, he wondered why he of all people, given his past, was already considering Tyler a friend.

* * *

 “I’m telling ya, Ro,” Dean said as he climbed into bed next to Roman that night, “he’s a good guy, really. We had a nice li’l chat out there, Tyler and I, and I think that maybe, with a little more coaxing, y’know…”

“Don’t say it.” Roman looked up at Dean from the pillows tiredly.

“I think I might be able to convince him to take a night job at the bar.” He scrunched up his nose in confusion when he saw Roman shake his head no. “Well, why not?”

“Because we know jack shit about this guy, Dean.” Roman propped his head up on his pillows, turning to face Dean head-on. “You know his name and that’s it. Look, I know that you feel like Tyler’s a kindred spirit and all, but you’re getting in over your head. Sometimes people don’t want to be saved.”

Dean’s tone turned sour. “Implying that he needs some kind of help because he’s out there on the streets, huh?”

Roman groaned, but really, having been with Dean this long he should’ve known better. After all, the two of them didn’t have a fairy tale friendship from the get-go. “Don’t be like this, man,” Roman said as Dean turned off the light without giving Roman his usual goodnight kiss. “You know what I mean by that.”

He felt a hand rub up and down his upper arm. “Didn’t your therapist tell you that you shouldn’t go to bed angry?”

“I’m not angry,” Dean replied, closing his eyes and trying to focus on how good Roman’s hand felt against his bare skin. “I’m disappointed in the way that you are treatin’ somebody who could not only end up being a good worker, but another friend.”

“And Lord knows we could use more of those,” Roman said with a chuckle, still rubbing.

“All’m saying, Ro, is that you took a chance on me and look at where we are now. Sharin’ a bed and an apartment, running a successful business -”

“Quickies in the shower before we have to open up shop.” Dean couldn’t see Roman’s face in the dark, but could just _feel_ the smirk radiating off of him. _Cocky little shit._

“Those too.” Dean scooted closer, Roman’s arm moving from his arm to instinctively wrap around Dean’s back and hold him close. “I don’t think I’m getting the whole story from Tyler, but if I can get him to open up more to me, I think I’ll be able to help.”

“ _We’ll_ be able to help, you mean.” Dean smiled, though he knew the other man couldn’t see his face either. “You’re not changing lives on your own, buddy. And you’re sure as hell not doing it on company time.”

Dean moved his lips to Roman’s, relishing in the slow kiss as Roman’s arm around him kept them close together even after they’d separated at the mouth.

“I love you,” Roman whispered as Dean tucked his head into Roman’s chest and closed his eyes again. “We’ll talk about this later, alright? We need some sleep.”

“Love you too,” he whispered back. Dean knew he’d fall asleep naturally in due time, but he still couldn’t help but wonder if Tyler had somewhere safe to stay that night, or any night at all for that matter. Roman wasn’t going to open up the apartment to a stranger, that was for damn sure, but he still couldn’t help but picture the three of them together, all tucked in for the night under the covers as one complete unit.

 _You’re getting greedy,_ a voice in the back of his head said. _You’re lucky Roman even still wants you after this long. You can’t afford to fuck it up with him._

That was true, to a degree. Just because Tyler was his (well, _one_ of his) cup of tea didn’t mean that he had to make things awkward by pursuing him in any way, shape or form. That was a whole can of reality worms that Dean didn’t want a part of.

However, he could dream. For that, the sooner Dean got to sleep, the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the length, but it's about time we got some stuff from Dean's point of view, eh? To tide you over from the ~1.4K, I come bringing gifts of recipes:
> 
> The Brooklyn Brawler: [a rye Manhattan without the vermouth](http://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/manhattan-2).  
> The Celtic Warrior: [a spicy vodka martini](http://cookieandkate.com/2013/red-pepper-martini/) really only named as such for the color. Unless you consider Sheamus a little spitfire. *rimshot*  
> The Goldust: [actually called a "Gold Rush"](http://www.garnishwithlemon.com/gold-rush-cocktail/). No brainer.  
> The Del Rio: [ made with pear nectar and reposado tequila](http://cookieandkate.com/2011/holiday-cocktail-pear-and-resposado-tequila/).
> 
> From here on out, drink recipes will be added to notes as they appear in the chapters.


	5. A Force to Be Reckoned With

Seth picked through the sale rack, looking for the bigger hoodies to find one that fit his shoulders. The lady at the counter would inevitably ask if the hoodie was for his girlfriend and he’d smile and nod, mumbling the usual spiel about how she loved glitter so he just _had_ to get it for her. What Victoria’s Secret thought of him and his love for glitter was irrelevant when clothing was up to 70% off.

What he had expected to happen happened, and despite feeling a little upset at himself for not asserting the fact that the hoodie was _not_ for a woman this time, he was no worse for wear.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a store window as he walked, and Seth nearly stumbled at how ordinary he looked. Well, outside of his hair, of course. He had a good four days’ worth of beard growth, and had to admit that he looked damn good in the jeans he was wearing at the moment. But then again, Seth was in the camp that he looked good in pretty much anything that he bought - after all, if it didn’t, he wouldn’t’ve got it in the first place.

 _Not looking forward to shaving all this off on Wednesday,_ he thought to himself, bringing a hand to his cheek as he got onto the up escalator. _It’s finally not patchy… still,_ he reminded himself with a sigh. _Duty calls._

Having to get all dolled up every Wednesday was starting to have a negative effect on both his bank account and his psyche. It used to be that dressing up all nice was reserved for a night out to the gay bar in the next town over with friends, or even just wearing a low-cut top and lacy panties around the house because he liked how it felt. Now that it was required of him, Seth’s waxing and waning sense of femininity just didn’t feel right anymore. Doing makeup wasn’t an art form anymore, it was a chore; picking out outfits was now more for realism than for fun. If he wasn’t trying to pass as much as possible, he’d have been out there in jeans, heels, and a button-down blouse by now.

Still, Dean seemed to like it, though, and that felt like incentive to keep going.

 _You know you’re leading him on,_ he reminded himself, trying not to think about the possible consequences of falling for someone that could very well be a potential mark. It was all very spy-thriller, except for the fact that admittedly neither of them were movie star material and the city was rather sleepy when it came to crime on most accounts. And Seth felt bad about it, the lying, but it was his job and he honestly didn’t feel bad enough to spill the beans and potentially lose a friend… or potential boyfriend.

He told himself he’d talk to Randy about it when he came back to the office tomorrow. They were both booked for a late shift, working until eleven at night, so it wouldn’t be like they didn’t have time to waste in the patrol car talking about things like this.

 _Besides,_ Seth thought as he pushed open the door to the parking lot, _if I can trust anyone to keep it real with me, it’s Randy._

* * *

“I don’t know,” Randy said as he picked at the cinnamon roll on his desk. “I kinda like the idea of you leading a double life. Sounds fun to me.” He tore off part of the outer ring, popping it in his mouth and continuing to talk. “Officer of the law by day, sexy hooker - well, sexy to those who dig that kinda thing - by night.”

“I’m an officer right now, Randy, and it’s nighttime.” Seth gave him a withering look. “You’re no help with this stuff, you know that? I thought you’d make a decent second opinion on the issue.”

Randy shrugged, tearing and eating more of his cinnamon roll. “I just think you deserve to get your dick wet s’all. You haven’t been seeing that DJ for over a year now, but you can’t _still_ be hung up on that.”

“I’m _not_ , that’s the problem - I’m single and ready to mingle, but I only feel like mingling with -”

There was a quick knock on Randy’s door before the door opened to reveal Office Neidhart from Charlie Squad pointing at both of them. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got a disorderly conduct call down on Heenan Street and I need a couple of officers to come with me.”

Randy got up from his chair, leaving the cinnamon roll out in the open for Seth to snag a piece off the side as Randy got his jacket on. “The Arm Bar, Nat?”

“The Arm Bar?” Seth turned around to look between Officer Neidhart and Randy, who appeared unfazed.

“Yep.” Officer Neidhart rolled her eyes. “It’s the frequent flyers, too. I swear, these two _wait_ until I’m the one on call to start shit in that bar.”

Seth didn’t bother to ask who she was talking about as they headed out of the building to Randy’s patrol car, Seth getting in the back as Randy mouthed _we’ll talk later_ and shut the car door after him.

The ride down to the bar was pretty much silent, save for Officer Neidhart grousing about having to go out and the sound of her typing on her phone to her husband about making sure their cats had food in their bowls overnight. Seth bounced his leg anxiously. This was _way_ different than going to the bar for drinks or how he spent his Wednesday nights. Hopefully Dean didn’t see him.

“We’re here,” Randy announced as he parked in front of The Arm Bar, Seth already making out frantic-moving figures inside through the windows. “We’ll get the guys in the squad car and take ‘em back to the station, but Nat, you’ll stay here to get information for the report and then I’ll have Seth swing back by and pick you up after we’re done. Deal?”

“Sounds fine to me.” The three of them got out of the squad car together and walked to the front door, Seth already bracing to face the worst.

* * *

“I assume we don’t have to point them out,” Roman called from behind the bar to the three uniformed officers that had just walked into the bar, making half of the customers turn their heads. “It’s the usual suspects tonight, Officer Neidhart.”

“Good to see you too, Roman,” the only female officer of the group and the only one that had been dispatched to The Arm Bar before replied. “Shame that I’m on the clock.”

Roman watched as she got out her pad and pen to start taking down information for the incident report, the other two officers deciding to approach the two drunk men head-on. “Okay, buddy,” the taller of the two male officers said, taking out his handcuffs. “You’re in public, so please play nice and we can make this as painless as possible.”

“I ain’t goin’ _nowhere_. This is wack, man.” One of the men, the one with the platinum blond spikes, crossed his arms over his chest. “We was just talkin’ to this fine piece’a -”

“Our girl Carmella,” Enzo clarified, crossing his own arms menacingly where he was across the bar from the guy, Big Cass behind him. “Cass’s girlfriend.”

“An’ these two guidos didn’t like it too much, tryna pick a fight.” The other offender finished for his friend, turning his snapback around to have the bill face the front. “S’not our fault that y’all two get jealous easy.”

“Who you callin’ ‘guidos’?” Big Cass asked, leaning forward as Enzo turned around to hold him back.

“Cass, head to the back,” Roman ordered, his employee obeying grudgingly as the guys continued to mock them, even throwing in an impassioned yet cheesy ‘bada-boom’ for good measure.

The shorter of the two officers took his handcuffs out as well, hooking them around the guy that his partner wasn’t already holding and reading out Miranda rights to. He turned to Roman, and that’s when he saw his face for the first time that night.

 _Holy shit - it’s the guy with the blond streak from before._ He then noticed that the other arresting officer, unless he had a twin, was definitely the Randy he’d walked in with last Tuesday night. _Damn. I probably shoulda been nicer the first time around._

If Officer Blond Streak realized that Roman recognized him, he didn’t show it. “Do you have names for these two?” he asked. “Government names.”

“Grandmaster Sexay,” the one Officer Blond Streak proudly proclaimed while the one Randy  was strong-holding managed to croak out “Scotty 2 Hotty”.

“Brian Christopher and Scott Taylor,” Officer Neidhart corrected, pad open and scribbling away. This was the third time that she’d had to come out to the bar and, frankly, Roman owed her a free drink by now. “Don’t listen to them until after we get them in the drunk tank for a couple of hours. Although, by then, Mr. Christopher’s dad has usually come to pick them up.”

Roman snorted and saw that Officer Blond Streak was barely hiding a grin of his own. The guy had a nice smile, and the more he watched the guy do his job, the more Roman’s thing for a man in uniform started to reveal itself. _Wonder if I can get my hands on a fuzzy pair of those handcuffs._

“We’ll have to swing by again sometime soon, not on business,” Officer Randy spoke up as he started leading Scott Taylor out of the bar. “Gotta get my hands on more of those wings.”

“I’ll be happy to get you some next time, officer,” Roman replied as the policeman flashed him a grin and left the building. Officer Blond Streak left soon after with his drunk in tow, nodding him goodbye as he left. Roman answered all of the questions that Officer Neidhart asked of him and waited until she was finished with Enzo and Big Cass before asking her a question.

“Who were the officers that came with you?” he asked casually, leaning on the bar in front of him as he spoke. “What were their names?”

“The taller one was Lieutenant Orton, and his partner is Officer Rollins. Really great guys.” Officer Neidhart was looking wistfully at the “drink of the day” chalkboard where a figgy maple bourbon fizz called ‘The Anvil’ was taking up residence. “Have to come back in for that one… why do you ask?” she asked in reply, looking back to him curiously.

Roman shrugged, trying to appear casual as he made a mental note to keep The Anvil on the drink menu for a while. “Just felt like asking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't pretend like Too Cool wouldn't pull shit like this. But we finally got Roman all hot & fuzzy! Success! Thanks to my Spanish professor for not showing up to class this morning so I could type this up.
> 
> Named after Nattie's father, The Anvil is [a figgy maple (eh) bourbon fizz](http://cheeseandchoco.blogspot.com/2014/01/figgy-maple-bourbon-fizz.html?m=1).


	6. A Relationship Diverged Under a Streetlight, Wood

Roman knew Officer Neidhart’s extension number down at the station (she’d left it for him after her last visit to The Arm Bar, figuring that him using a direct line to deal with miscreants would be better than 911 at this point), and he found himself calling her Wednesday afternoon to ask some more about Officer Rollins.

“You know,” she said cheekily, and Roman swore he could hear her twirling her hair like a schoolgirl on the other end of the call, “I gave you my direct line so you could let me or whoever’s near my desk know about incidents at the bar without you tying up the emergency desk. Somehow, I don’t think asking about my colleague is much of an emergency.”

“It is to me,” Roman replied, taking her teasing at face value. This was the first guy in literal _years_ that he’d been interested in taking out, and if he was going to have his hopes dashed due to a preexisting relationship, then he was gonna have them dashed as quickly as possible. Well, the first guy outside of Dean.

Natalya - “we’re on a first-name basis by now, I’d think” - giggled. “This is so cute. Who knew an arrest would bring two people together?” Roman was glad that she couldn’t see him roll his eyes. “I’m _pretty_ sure he’s single, though I can’t be too sure. Hold on, lemme ask.”

There was the sound of her setting the desk phone down face-up and walking away to find out. After what felt like ages, rustling on Natalya’s side brought his full attention back to the conversation at hand. “Okay, he’s single -” Roman was about to interject his thanks and hang up - “but before you go trying to pursue him or anything, I need to let you know something about Seth.”

“Seth?”

“That’s his first name.” Natalya’s voice dropped to a low whisper. “Seth, uh… how do I put this? Seth has a very unique fashion sense.”

“Looking at his hair, I’d consider that a given.” Roman was nonplussed. “I don’t see why that would be a potential dealbreaker here.”

“ _No_ , it’s just -” Natalya sighed, leaving him more confused than he had been before. “Seth wears both men and women’s clothing.”

Oh. Well, Roman had to admit that that was definitely something to know about Seth.

“So, like…?” he prompted, hoping she’d fill in the gaps in his imagination where he was now currently playing dress-up with what he assumed would be Seth’s naked body.

“Like dresses, skirts, blouses… all tasteful, like, _ridiculously_ tasteful. Nothing like a hooker.” Roman nodded as she spoke, thinking about Tyler again, who apparently didn’t fit the bill despite the fact that he too was a dude in a dress. “He doesn’t wear it to work, but we’ve gone out for drinks after work or on days off a couple of times and he really gets all done up for it.”

“It doesn’t sound too bad,” he replied, looking back at Dean in the kitchen trying to get all the chicken wings out of the refrigerator to prepare in time for opening at five. “Any chance that I could get his number off of you? I don’t want to be weird about it, but I also don’t want to wait for Christopher and Taylor to fuck up in here to see him again.”

“I don’t have his personal cell, sorry.” Natalya sounded actually apologetic that she couldn’t help him even more with getting together with Seth. “But I bet he and Randy’ll come back to the bar sometime soon as customers and you can ask him then.”

He sighed. That would have to do. “Alright,” he said as Dean walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel and coming behind the bar. “You have to come ‘round here again too, though, because I owe you a drink.”

“Can I have that one that was on the sign?” she asked hopefully.

Roman chuckled. “If that’s what you want, then it’s yours.”

* * *

“Who was that on the phone?” Dean asked, squatting down to pull out the huge bottle of seltzer water he kept under the bar and bring it up to the counter to pour himself a glass. “Apparently someone’s getting a free drink.”

“Just one of the officers down at the station who helped get the mayor’s kid and his friend out of here last night.” Roman watched as he poured himself an entire beer stein’s worth of seltzer. “Careful with that, don’t spill it on the counter.”

Dean scoffed and put the bottle back down, not losing a drop to the hardwood top of the bar. “Yes, mother dear.” He took a swing from the stein before screwing the cap back on the bottle and squatting back down to put it away. “Was this that guy that came into the bar with his friend that you said looked familiar? Officer Something?”

“Officer Rollins, yeah.” Dean watched Roman turn a rosy shade of pink in the cheeks once he stood back up. After they closed up shop last night at one, Roman was practically gushing (well, gushing by Roman standards) about how hot he found the guy. He found it to be a little off-putting, to be honest. He and Roman were far from being in an established relationship of any kind, open or not, but living and sleeping together had created a bond between the two of them that Dean didn’t want to be replaced.

“His first name’s Seth,” Roman continued, walking down the bar to the register area. “Isn’t that a nice name?” He opened up the till as Dean looked on, still drinking his seltzer water. It was a Wednesday, so more likely than not, he was going to see Tyler tonight. Maybe Tyler had just needed some time to mull things over about Dean’s offer from the week before. After all, the offer still stood.

 _Maybe I can convince him some other way,_ Dean considered, a sly smile sneaking its way onto his face.

“- name even means ‘anointed’ or ‘placed’. I mean, that’s pretty cool, right?” Dean snapped back into reality as Roman looked at him from across the bar. “Right?”

“Uh…” Dean started, not really sure what to say. Roman looked exasperated.

“You weren’t even listening, were you.”

Dean nodded, drinking again to buy himself some time. “No, I was listening to you talk about his smile again, and what his name meant…” He grimaced, hoping the former was correct. (He knew the latter part was, because, well, Roman was weird like that. This wasn’t the first time.) “I just think that it’s a little weird that you’re fallin’ so hard, so fast for this guy, and you only just now learned his name.”

Roman frowned, almost looking deflated, and his heart sank. “I just… I just think this guy’s pretty cool, and since you’re kinda smitten with Tyler, it might be good if I branch out a little bit too, y’know?” Roman closed the till again, busying himself with another part of the register.

“Tyler’s just a friend,” Dean replied, as if saying it out loud made his actual feelings less real. “Nothing… nothing’s gonna happen with him. It’d be too risky anyway.”

“Whatever.” He sounded skeptical and still a little hurt. Roman finally looked back up from the register and walked straight past Dean, only meeting his eye when he passed. “I’ll be in the office if you need me.”

Dean took a swig of his water as Roman went to the back and another after he heard the office door slam and _click_ to be locked. It was going to be a long night, but maybe seeing Tyler would make it even a little better.

* * *

Seth stood under the light post anxiously, checking the watch he had finally added to his ensemble to see that 10:30 was fast approaching. Going out on Wednesday nights didn’t even feel like much of a job anymore, so much as it was just a chance to see Dean, and now, talk to him.

“I’ll be back late tonight, buddy,” Seth had told Kevin as the little dog came trotting up to Seth with a plush toy almost as big as he was in his tiny mouth, hoping to play fetch. “Daddy’s gonna be out talking to his friend tonight.”

It was a lot easier to call Dean a friend aloud, as it made the butterflies in his stomach settle down for at least a few moments.

He had noticed Roman the day before, though, and how the guy couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of him as he got that Grandmaster Sexay guy out of the bar and into the squad car. At first he thought it was just a reasonable response to a business owner wanting to make sure that he got troublemakers out of his establishment, but the way Roman was looking him up and down…

Seth could’ve locked the guy up, because the way he had been practically fucking Seth with his eyes was absolutely criminal.

Dean was a few minutes late coming out of The Arm Bar, but when he did, Seth could see his face light up and watched the other man make a beeline to his side of the road.

“Tyler, man, you doin’ alright?” Dean greeted him, hopping up onto the curb with a smile.

He was confused for a second before he remembered that Dean was talking to him. He was Tyler in Dean’s eyes, not Seth. Right.

He nodded, smiling back at Dean as he lit up his first of what was sure to be at least three cigarettes Dean smoked during his fifteen-minute break. “Just livin’ life, man. How about you? Wing Wednesday going well?”

Dean shrugged, talking out of the side of his mouth that his cigarette wasn’t currently wedged in. “Ish ‘lright. Not feelin’ it t’much.”

“Ah.” Seth didn’t know how to answer that. “Sorry to hear that… how’s Roman doing?”

“He’s… hol’ on.” Dean took the cigarette out of his mouth, holding it gingerly between two fingers before speaking again. “Ro’s mad at me ‘cause I’m not ‘zactly over the moon about his crush on some police officer that swung by the bar yesterday.”

Seth’s heart nearly thumped out of his chest. _Was the officer - no._ “I-I see,” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Did you see him? Was he hot at least?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah. Guy came into the bar with a friend of his before and Ro had pointed him out and he was like… maybe slightly ‘bove average from what I could tell. Nothing to phone home about.” He stuck the cigarette back in his mouth for a second, taking a quick puff before moving it away from his mouth again. “But the way Ro’s gushing about him, man… you’d think this guy was the second comin’ of the Lord or somethin’.”

“I see.” Well, Roman wouldn’t be the first guy to have a crush on Randy, because Seth was pretty sure that he himself had had that honor when he’d first joined the police force two years ago. And if it _was_ Seth, well, Dean already thought that Seth - well, _Tyler_ \- was attractive, so either Roman was downplaying it or that couldn’t be right.

“It’s just,” Dean began, sounding like he’d been holding it in for a while, “it makes me so mad that, y’know, _Roman_ gets to like guys and it’s completely justified, but the second I show any interest in someone _I_ like, all of a sudden I’m in over my head an’ he thinks he has to sort me out.”

“Dean, I -” Seth began, figuring that it was probably easier to come clean now, while they were alone, and let him know that he knew Randy and Roman really didn’t stand much of a chance either, but he shut up when Dean dropped his cigarette on the ground and twisted his shoe to put it out forcefully.

Dean was still going, his voice threatening to rise. “It’s such _bullshit_. Like after all I’ve been through, that makes me some kinda fragile flower who needs to be bailed out of situations? Nah, fuck that,” Dean said, still grinding his foot into the pavement. “Just fuck -”

Seth pulled Dean closer to him by his shirt, startling the other man into silence. “I need you to shut up for a second, alright?” he asked, waiting until Dean nodded slowly, eyes wide, before taking a deep breath to continue.

He had two choices: he could come clean, try to explain, and help Dean out with his problems with Roman, or he could take the low road in a way that he knew was, well, _wrong_ , but felt so much better.

He hadn’t been touched in weeks, kissed in months. Loved like how he wanted for almost a year.

Seth leaned forward and pressed his ruby-red lipsticked lips to Dean’s own, taking that sweet, sweet, low road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gonna fuck y'all up.


	7. "Boyfriend Stealer" Lipstick by MAC

Dean felt like he was trapped between a rock and a hard place. Well, he was, technically. Tyler had him pressed up against the brick wall of the alleyway, and as it turned out, skirts were not too good at covering up erections.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know how he got there. Tyler may have sprung the first kiss on him by  surprise, but he continued to follow through and pull Tyler and himself out of the light to somewhere they could really feel more alone.

“You taste… you taste like honey,” Dean said between kisses, breath hitching as Tyler moved down to his neck. “Oh - oh my _god_ , Ty -”

Tyler shushed him, rolling his body into Dean’s from the hips. “Just… just let me have this,” Dean heard him say under his ear, practically pleading.

“I have t’ go back inside, babe.” _Babe._ It had just slipped out, but there it was, hanging in the air between them as Tyler pulled away, looking startled.

“Right, right.” Tyler looked down at his wrist, and it was only then that he noticed the men’s watch on the other man’s right wrist. Like most men’s watches, it was big and actually kind of gaudy, to the point where it threw off the rest of Tyler’s outfit. “Yeah, it’s been more than fifteen minutes.” Even though he couldn’t see very well in the shadows of the alley, Dean was pretty sure that Tyler had turned as red as his lipstick had been.

“I should be getting back in, then, yeah.” Dean didn’t even want to chance going through the front door like he’d left the bar in the first place, especially considering that he knew he had bright red lipstick stains on his mouth and probably up the side of his neck.

Tyler nodded, and Dean noticed how, as they both walked out from the alleyway, Tyler instinctively pulled his arms closer into his body in an effort to minimize how much space he was taking up. Dean was surprised at how much alike Tyler’s present and his past seemed to be intertwining, even through appearances alone, if not with actual actions.

“You can come in with me through the side door by the loading dock to freshen up,” Dean offered, watching as Tyler shook his head and kept his gaze locked on the bar in front of them. He furrowed his brow. “Why not?”

“Don’t feel like it,” Tyler replied simply, still looking ahead at The Arm Bar for some reason. He turned to look at Dean. “‘Sides, if I leave and someone comes along…”

“Right, say no more.” Dean didn’t want to even think about some guy picking Tyler up for the night after this, much less hear Tyler say it out loud. Not after he accidentally gave him a pet name, not after the way he saw Tyler shrink away afterwards.

“Well, I’ll see you around,” he continued, wanting to lean back in for one last kiss before deciding against it. They were back in the light now and he had to go; they couldn’t do that anymore.

Tyler nodded, smiling slightly as Dean waved and walked back across the street to the right side loading dock, typing in the access code for the lock and letting himself in.

 _If you get Tyler, you can’t have Roman,_ he told himself as he walked down the back hallway to the bathroom at the end of the hall. _Don’t pretend like you’re good enough to handle them both._

* * *

Roman found out an hour into that night’s service that avoiding one’s problems by staying in the main office didn’t really help. Even though the door was locked, any request any of the workers had for him would just be written on paper from the till, slid under the door, and they’d knock to let him know to get up and get it before going on their merry way.

Really, it would just be easier for everyone involved if Roman just wasn’t so stubborn and came out to help at the bar like any other night, but no one said it always had to be easy.

He thought about that afternoon, propping his feet up on the desk as he reclined in the office chair. He and Dean had gotten into way bigger arguments before (making for some interesting matches back when they were still on the indy circuit), but this one struck a particular nerve that he just couldn’t seem to figure out at the moment.

Dean was going to do something with Tyler; that was inevitable. Even though Dean insisted that the two of them were just friends, Dean was and had always been attracted to danger, and a male prostitute that for some reason only showed up on Wednesdays and refused help just _reeked_ of risk to him.

Still, as much as he loved Dean, he knew he couldn’t protect him from everything forever.

He sighed and pulled his phone out of his pocket, turning on the lock screen to see what time it was and if he’d gotten a text from Dean. He wasn’t looking for an apology by any means - frankly, they both said some snotty shit - but it would be nice to have some validation that his live-in pseudo-boyfriend and best friend still kind of cared.

The screen didn’t show any new messages, but it did show that it was about 10:50 at night. Dean should be back in the kitchen after his smoke break by now. He put the phone back in his pocket and took his feet off the table, walking to unlock the door and head out down the hall to the back door of the kitchen.

As he stepped out of the office, he saw the retreating figure of Dean going down the hall ahead of him. Outside of the apron ties around the back, he’d know that ass anywhere.

“Hey, Dean,” he called down the hallway, making Dean turn to face him head-on. “I wanted to - oh.”

Roman saw the red all over Dean’s lips and off the side of his neck. _Blood?_ he asked himself, taking a step forward as Dean went white.

 _No,_ Roman thought as he made out distinct lip marks trailing down Dean’s jaw to the right side of his neck. _That’s lipstick. That’s Tyler._

_That’s worse._

* * *

Seth opened the door to his apartment at two rather than three, turning on the overhead light in the living room as he walked past the switch. Technically, he was supposed to be working until three on Wednesday nights, but given everything that happened that night, Seth figured that he deserved to get off an hour early.

The heels came off first, and Seth wondered how he’d managed to get Dean all the way into the alleyway and up against the wall while balancing in wedges that made him taller than the other man he was pinning. Sheer power of will and his expert sense of balance, most likely. He massaged the balls of his feet slowly as he took the things out of his bag one by one.

Seth had only been on the job for a month, and while he hadn’t any success in reeling in guys other than Dean, he’d sure accumulated a lot of crap in his bag. There were receipts from drive-thru windows when he’d gotten dinner beforehand, napkins, and even a plastic cup lid he wasn’t entirely sure how it had gotten in there.

At the bottom, Seth reached in for a final time and pulled out the last two things: the condom he’d gotten from Roman and Dean the first night, still wrapped up and unused, and his phone. He left it on airplane mode to save the battery, so he wasn’t surprised when the notifications came rolling in as soon as it connected to the apartment wifi.

There was a text from Randy that had apparently only been delivered two hours ago. _Hey RuPaul_ , it started, and Seth decided to take that as a compliment, _Nattie’s got a proposition for you._

Seth tapped the text box, ready to send a message back. Hopefully Randy would still be up so he could reply. _I’m not watching the cats again._ The last time he had, Kevin refused to come within five feet of him for two days afterwards.

His phone buzzed again about ten minutes later, right after Seth got back on the couch, in yoga pants and no shirt, finally comfortable. _Not cats..._ the first of two texts began. Seth unlocked his phone to read the other message.

_Nat wants to set you up on a blind date._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for the record, "Boyfriend Stealer" is a little too plummy of a shade to be the lipstick that Seth was wearing. It was probably Ruby Woo. Semantics.


	8. Blind Dating the Blind

Roman’s voice was quiet. “Take the rest of the night off, Dean.”

“Ro, I -” Dean started to say, hunching his shoulders up to try and cover his neck, as though he didn’t have a trail of red down the side of his face that anyone could see anyway. All the pushback, the inevitable _it’s not like what you think_ that he knew he would get just made him angrier.

He knew this would happen. He fucking _knew_ it.

“Don’t.” He was louder this time, putting a hand up to make Dean stop before he even got going. “I don’t…” _I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to picture it. Fuck, I’m already picturing it and_ -

“Take the rest of the night off, Dean.” He walked past Dean to the kitchen area, taking care to make sure he didn’t bump him as he went by.

It was only after he’d been tending bar for the better part of an hour, long after Dean had likely packed up the knife set that Roman had bought him for Christmas last year and left, that Roman realized that he’d never once uttered the words “go home”.

* * *

Seth swallowed as he read the text over again, unsure of what to reply back with.

 _Kev got your phone?_ Randy texted a minute later. _Talk to her tomorrow about it._

 _I plan to,_ he replied, barely managing to tap out the only response he could think of before falling to sleep on the couch.

When he woke up, it was around seven, just over four hours later. _One day, I’m going to actually get a full night’s sleep… then die, because obviously that was my dying wish._ Seth groaned and sat up straight, twisting his waist back and forth to stretch before standing up.

Kevin trotted into the kitchen as Seth made his coffee, looking up at him expectantly, not saying anything. “You have to use your words, li'l buddy,” Seth teased, opening up the fridge and digging into the crisper for the bacon. “Good Kevins don’t get bacon unless they say please.”

Kevin just kept staring, and Seth chuckled, ripping a slice in half and putting on the floor in front of his little dog before going back to putting sugar in his coffee. Even though he had to go into work and face whatever music Officer Neidhart was trying to play, mornings like these were the best.

He got into the office minutes before eight, waiting by the coffee machine before sitting down at his desk promptly as the wall clock passed twelve. If he knew his coworkers, at least one of the other female officers knew about Officer Neidhart’s plans and wanted to beat her to the punch. Whether or not he considered Randy one of the girls in his head for doing just that, Seth wasn’t sure. He was still recovering from picturing Randy getting into lingerie two weeks ago.

Sure enough, Officer Fox from Echo Squad showed up at his desk within the hour. “Nattie tells me that she’s trying to set you up with this guy she knows,” she practically cooed, leaning so far forward that Seth got a good look down the front of her uniform. How she didn’t get fined regularly for uniform code infractions, he didn’t know.

“Oh, so it’s a guy?” Seth said, raising his eyebrows and playing along. Seth was only very rarely attracted to women, but what Officer Fox didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

She giggled like she’d said too much already. “I guess so. She says he’s a really nice guy, pretty handsome… if I had a picture I’d show you.”

“It wouldn’t be a blind date, then, would it?” Seth smiled up at her with a glint in his eye. “Is Officer Neidhart -”

“You can call her Nattie, everyone does.”

“Is Nattie here?” He swiveled his chair to face her. “I think I’d like to talk to her, actually. Not just about this, but just… other stuff. I don’t have her number; I can’t do this by text.”

Officer Fox nodded, standing back up. “I’ll go see if she’s in. If not, I’ll text her and tell her to talk to you when she gets back.”

Seth smiled again, hoping that it was charming enough to suit the look that he was going for. He’d learned a long time ago that sometimes appearances weren’t just one important thing, but rather the only important thing. “Thanks, Fox,” he said appreciatively as she nodded again and hurried back off to wherever she’d come from.

 _Did you find out who the guy is yet?_ Randy texted him an hour later, apparently not wanting to expend the energy it took to walk the fifty feet from his office to Seth’s desk and ask that question out loud. _Alicia said she talked to you._

 _No - are you on a first-name basis with everyone here?_ he texted back, a little frustrated that he was once again the subject of office gossip. _Why do you care?_

 _As your direct superior, it’s important to know what’s going on with you,_ Randy replied back with a smiling emoji attached to the end of the message. _And knowing names is what nice SOCIAL people do._

Seth sent back a middle-finger emoji in reply.

“Seth!” Nattie’s voice preceded her as she walked up to Seth’s desk. “Heard you were looking for me.”

“I was,” he admitted, this time turning around to face her immediately. “I heard from Randy last night - and then from Alicia this morning - that you’ve got a guy lined up for me to go out with?”

Nattie nodded eagerly, grinning. “Really great guy - it’s a blind date on your part because I know once you see the guy, you’ll, like _flip_ \- that is super interested in you.” Seth must have looked surprised, because she kept going, only getting more and more excited as she went on. “I know, I was surprised too, ‘cause you’re not exactly a social butterfly, y’know, but this guy is crazy about you.”

“Have I met him?” Seth couldn’t imagine someone really being crazy about him, especially not if Seth hadn’t been on good terms with the guy prior. “This is a lot to take in at once -”

“I know, but I wouldn’t be doing all this if I wasn’t sure that you two would look so _good_ together.” She paused for a second before remembering that he’d asked another question. “And yeah, you two’ve met briefly.”

“What’s his name?”

Nattie gave him a sly look. “Well, it wouldn’t be a blind date if I told you that, would it?” She reached for a pad and pen with the department information on it to write something down. “You’re just gonna have to trust me on this one. Go to this address tomorrow - it’s a little bistro downtown called Emma’s - at six. Just say that you have reservations under Neidhart.” She scribbled down an address on the pad with the time and date circled underneath before ripping the paper off and sliding it all back to him.

“And if it doesn’t go well?” Seth looked down at the paper before looking back up at Nattie.

“Then I will never ever set you up with someone again. But I don’t think I’ll ever have to again anyway, once you see this guy.” She smiled at him softly. “You two will look _so good_ together.”

Seth thought to himself that if it wasn’t Dean across the table from him at Emma’s at six on Friday, he probably wouldn’t be interested.

* * *

Roman sat at the table by himself, looking down at the menu in front of him. He was pretty sure that this place was a little too healthy for his typical taste, but it came highly recommended by Natalya and, well, she’d taken the liberty of making the reservations herself after he’d called her up again about Seth Rollins the day before.

 _Breakfast menu, breakfast…_ It was a little late for breakfast, but if Seth didn’t like pancakes for dinner sometimes, well, that just might be a deal breaker. _We got egg muffins, flatbread breakfast pizzas, peanut butter and jelly french toast -_

“Roman.” A man’s voice spoke above him and he looked up. It was Seth.

“Officer Rollins, er, Seth,” he said, smiling but wincing internally at how he’d used his date’s professional title first. Roman stood up to greet him, moving with the intention to pull out his chair for him. “Glad you could make it.”

“Well, Nattie - Officer Neidhart - didn’t give me much information to go on, but now I realize that I’m in good company at least.” Seth got the hint and sat down in the chair opposite Roman’s, letting him slide the chair back in.

Roman smiled and sat back down in his own chair as Seth picked up the menu next to his water glass to start looking. “I can say the same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emma has a YouTube cooking channel called ["Taste of Tenille"](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCl1_9cyRAVLu-fDmSYTnuvQ/videos), and all of the foods that Roman lists can be found there.


	9. Going Dutch

Seth was freaking. The fuck. Out.

Because of _course_ it’d be Roman that Nattie had him go on a date with, because his life couldn’t get any worse involving The Arm Bar at the moment. And once he’d put two and two together that _he_ was the police officer that Dean said Roman had a crush on and was like “the second comin’ of the Lord or somethin’” (Dean’s words, not his), Seth nearly passed out on the spot.

(There was also the fact that Dean had called the person he was talking about then, before either of them knew it was him only slightly above-average. That was a little disheartening, to say the least.)

Roman, on the other hand, seemed to be over the moon as soon as he saw Seth. “I’ve never been here before either,” he said, leaning forward to point at something in the breakfast section of the menu. “But that peanut butter and jelly french toast sounds awesome. I think I’m going to get that.”

“I wouldn’t’ve pegged you for a guy who eats breakfast foods at dinner,” Seth heard himself think out loud, turning red when he realized what he’d said and Roman raised his eyebrows at him. “I just mean, you don’t _look_ like the kind of guy that does. Crap. That doesn’t sound any better.”

His date laughed, looking down and turning a little pink in the cheeks himself. “It’s the build. I’m a big guy; people think I don’t eat anything but lean meat and protein shakes.” He looked back up at Seth and smiled. “You look great, though. I bet you could eat, like, anything you want and not have to worry about it at all.”

Seth laughed as well. For some reason, that line felt very _Napoleon Dynamite_ of Roman to say. “I do my best to keep it balanced,” he replied, smiling back and leaning forward. “So… I guess it can be said that you liked what you saw on Tuesday?”

“That can be said,” Roman admitted, nodding. “Though I have to admit, pulling out the handcuffs so soon only made me like you more,” he added with a devilish grin.

Seth snorted, covering his mouth in surprise when he did. “Jesus, okay… well, I don’t pull them out often, only on special occasions and, well… _arrests_ , but I’m glad it had that effect on you.” He looked back down at the menu, realizing that he hadn’t decided what he was going to eat, and the waitress would be coming along any minute now. “I don’t know what I should get.”

“How about you get the french toast with me? If you want,” Roman suggested. “No pressure or anything.”

“No, no, that sounds good too.” Seth looked down at the description on the menu, his mouth watering at the sound of a big sweet sandwich. “We each get a side with our meal. You can get eggs and I’m gonna get bacon - or vice versa - and we can half that with each other for a bigger meal.”

“Already sharing food with me?” Roman asked with a soft smile evident in his voice. “Natalya wasn’t kidding when she said that you were one of the nicest people she’d ever met.”

Seth blushed, keeping his eyes on the menu. He didn’t talk to Natalya very often, but he didn’t know that he’d made that kind of impression on her over time. “She’s very nice too, very… flattering.” He looked up and smiled back. “So, do we have a deal about the sides?”

“Right back to the important things,” Roman replied, and if Seth was hearing things right, he was getting teased on a first date. Seth gave his date a funny look, still smiling through it. “What, food’s not important now?”

“No, no, food’s extremely important,” Seth assured him. “I’m just not used to… to all this,” he explained, waving a hand slightly in front of him as he saw the waitress rounding the corner to take their orders. “This isn’t a typical first date for me.”

Roman’s smile turned into a full-blown smirk. “Well, if you stick around with me, I can help you get accustomed.”

* * *

Roman was pretty sure that he was in love. There was something about Seth, something that he couldn’t put his finger on, that made him just want to swoop the guy up in his arms and take him somewhere where they could spend days upon days together, just learning about each other more and Roman could hold him close.

 _What would Dean think of that?_ he found himself thinking after every question Seth answered. Roman asked about Seth’s life, his little dog that Seth seemed to absolutely adore, how he liked his job. He asked himself how he and Dean would deal with Seth’s ever-switching hours, having a pet underfoot, and the fact that Seth didn’t seem to be taking himself out of the line of fire anytime soon. (Respectable, Roman thought, but risky.)

He knew Dean wouldn’t care about any of those things too much, since Seth wasn’t Roman or Tyler. Roman frowned. As much as he tried to be there for Dean’s happiness at all costs, he couldn’t help but dislike the guy he’d never even met.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Seth asked him innocently, pointing down at Roman’s plate with the knife in his hand. “You look like you’re trying to kill the toast, not cut it.”

“Oh, I -” Roman started to say, looking down at the way he was practically cutting into the plate underneath his food as he’d gotten lost in his thoughts. That was embarrassing. “It’s nothing.” That answer seemed to satisfy Seth, who went back to eating his peanut butter and jelly french toast and half-sides of bacon and eggs silently.

“Well, actually,” Roman began again, making Seth look back up at him curiously. “Have you ever been really worried for someone, but only because they care so much?” He’d mentioned his and Dean’s close relationship earlier while they were waiting for their meals, but not how close they actually were.

Roman figured that like sex and the subject of Seth’s crossdressing, that kind of thing was better saved for at _least_ the third date.

Seth, to his surprise, laughed out loud. “Are we sharing a brain right now?” Seth asked, putting down his fork and knife and sliding his plate ever so slightly forward. “I’ve had that question on my mind for weeks now.”

“I’m just a little worried that Dean, y’know… Dean’s a really great guy. I couldn’t ask for a better guy to be as close with as I am with him, but he’s been through a lot of stuff in his life. Rough childhood, substance abuse issues -” Roman remembered that he was talking to a law enforcement officer and quickly continued - “all gone by now, of course. He hasn’t been near the stuff in years.”

“So what’s the issue now?” Seth seemed to be unfazed, though this wasn’t exactly the kind of discussion Roman wanted to have with Seth, or frankly, anyone that he was currently on a date with.

“He’s been seeing - well, not _seeing_ , exactly, just heavily flirting with - some guy named Tyler that comes around the bar ever so often.” He knew he had to leave out the fact that Tyler was an honest-to-God prostitute, if only out of basic human decency on both Dean and Tyler’s behalfs. “And I’m pretty sure that Tyler’s bad news.”

Seth shook his head, picking his silverware back up and going back to eating. Roman was confused at the response for a second before Seth spoke up again. “I think that this is just something you’re going to have to let Dean figure out for himself, honestly,” Seth said before eating another bite of scrambled eggs.

“You think so?” Roman asked, watching Seth’s face before focusing in on those lips and the rest of that perfect-looking mouth of his. “I’m just looking out for him.”

His date swallowed what he was eating and smiled. “And you’re a good friend for that. But Dean’s an adult, right?” Roman nodded, half-listening as he continued to watch Seth’s mouth move. “Then, if it were up to me, then I think I would let Dean handle this himself.”

Roman nodded again, sighing and looking back down at his plate. The food was great, but he wasn’t sure if he was even hungry for the second half of his dinner anymore. “Y’know, you’re right.” He looked back up at Seth. “I think I’ll take a step back on this one.”

* * *

“I kissed him in the parking lot, before he got in his car to go,” Roman said, Dean watching as he tied his hair back into its usual ponytail before bed. “He tasted like syrup, from the french toast.”

Dean smiled, though it felt fake just below the surface. “I’m happy for you,” he said honestly, watching as Roman looked at him behind him in the mirror and smiled back in reply. “Seth sounds like an amazing guy.”

“He is,” Roman replied, turning around and looking at Dean head-on before starting to take his shirt off. Usually, that kind of look meant that they were about to get down and dirty before they really went to bed, but for some reason, Dean figured that that wasn’t going to be the case tonight.

“Did your Tyler come around tonight while I was gone?” Roman asked next, settling down on his side of the bed, above the covers, and looking at Dean. “I’m going to have to meet the guy one day in person.” Dean felt something ache in his chest at Roman calling Tyler his, as if have ‘his Tyler’ meant that he didn’t have ‘his Roman’ as well.

“You’re fine with it now?” Dean asked in reply, remembering how he had spent that night on the couch after showering, barely registering Roman walking in at three and heading straight back to the master bedroom. “Thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

Roman shrugged. “I have Seth; you have Tyler. Things happen.” Dean watched as the other man pushed himself slightly closer to Dean, pressing a firm kiss to his jawline before pulling away again. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about what happens to you still. You’re still the most important thing in my life, Dean-o.”

“Even more important than the bar?” Dean doubted that.

“Even more important than the bar,” Roman assured him. “Now let’s go to bed. I promised Seth that I would at least try to get a good night’s sleep on my day off, since he usually can’t.”

 _Gettin’ tired of hearing about this guy already,_ Dean thought to himself as he got under the covers and turned off the bedside table light. But if he made Roman happy, well… Dean would be a fool to get in the way of a relationship more honest than anything between and Tyler would likely ever be.

“Ro?” he asked softly, scooting up against his lover’s front. “You still… you still love me, right?”

Roman chuckled, and Dean thought fleetingly that that was not the appropriate way to begin his response. “Of course I do. Now, c’mon. Go to sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seth thinks that line is very _Napoleon Dynamite_ of Roman because it reminds him of the line "you could drink whole milk if you wanted to" (and was written with that line in mind). Just try not to picture Roman as Napoleon.


	10. A Different Kind of Mania

It took two months into the sting operation for Seth to finally get paid for his services. Not that he was looking forward to that happening, but he realized after it happened that he should’ve expected it sooner or later.

Having sex was a snap decision on both his and Dean’s parts. “Is there… is there any chance that you can wait ‘round for me to pick you up after close tonight?” Dean asked as he moved his lips down from Seth’s neck down to the bend right above his shoulder. “Ro’s doing inventory. I have the apartment all to myself.”

“Iunno,” Seth said uncomfortably, twisting a little into Dean’s touch as it shifted from his thigh up to the back of his skirt, one calloused hand resting comfortably on his ass. “I don’t have anywhere to be, but -”

“I’ll pay you for your time,” Dean continued, pulling away and looking Seth in the eye. “We can swing by an ATM on the way there and I’ll take something out. Would a hundred do it?”

Seth had agreed at the time on the pretense that he wasn’t going to let Dean give him the money afterwards. He wasn’t going to become the mask anytime soon.

The sex was… alright. It wasn’t the _best_ sex he’d ever had (that honor was given to a guy he’d hooked up with in Iowa right before he went into the academy, back in the backroom of some go-go bar), but the fact that he was anticipating the worst after they had both come probably dulled his arousal more than he would’ve liked.

“That was…” Dean started to say, trailing off and looking at Seth as Seth dismounted, for lack of a better word. “That was amazing. You’re good at what you do, Ty, you can say that much.”

He managed a weak laugh in reply. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”

“Speakin’ of that, lemme get you the money ‘fore I forget.” Dean leaned across him, his naked body brushing up against Seth’s as he got his hands on his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “You still good with the hundred?”

“Honestly, I’m fine with getting nothing,” Seth insisted. “It’s really not a big deal. I did this because I wanted to do it.”

Dean pressed the hundred-dollar bill hard into Seth’s palm as he got up from the bed. “Keep it. I know what it’s like.”

“I -” _I don’t need this money. In fact, I have more than enough money. Hell, I should be paying_ you _for spending time with me._ “I can’t take this, Dean. It’s not right.”

“It’s because I’m different, right?” Dean sounded hopeful, and Seth didn’t have the heart to tell him that not only was it because Dean was different, special even, but because he was different as well. He was probably as different from Tyler as Dean was different from a potential client.

“Yeah.” It was easier to tell a partial truth than outright lie at this point. Besides, he was too tired to care. “I’ll be up and out of here in a little bit, don’t worry.”

Dean waved a hand at him nonchalantly. “Take your time. I get the feeling Roman’ll be crashing on Enzo and Cass’s couch after they get finished. You can even stay the night, if you want.” There was that hopeful voice again.

He needed a second opinion on what to do. It was time to bring out the big guns… and ask Randy about what he thought about all of this.

* * *

“You need to cut this shit out, is what I think,” Randy said, nursing a bottle of beer as he sat at Seth’s dining room table. “Pick one guy - preferably Roman, since, y’know, you haven’t been _lying_ to him - and stick with it. You’re in too deep.” He must’ve seen the look on Seth’s face, because he frowned. “Don’t give me that sappy ‘I just want to be loved’ shit either.”

“So how’m I supposed to get myself out of this, huh?” Seth got himself another beer, acutely aware that his skirt was riding up behind him as he bent down to get himself a drink. He pulled it down just to be sure. “I didn’t ask for this to happen.”

Randy scoffed. “Don’t be a brat. The second you made out with Dean, you were already in too deep.”

Seth sighed, coming back to the table with his beer in tow. Getting everything of the past two months out to Randy was therapeutic, but he didn’t invite his superior and friend over for beers on a Friday night to get lectured in return. Seth knew he was a fuck-up. This was just another incident in a long string of events that made up his fuck-up life.

“You’re feeling sorry for yourself again, aren’t you.” The way Randy spoke let Seth know that he wasn’t asking a question. “Stop it.”

“Don’t you think I _want_ to?”

“No. I genuinely don’t.”

 _Well, that’s not_ entirely _wrong,_ Seth thought to himself. But if he didn’t do something, he knew he ran the risk of losing both Roman _and_ Dean. And he wanted them both… _god_ , did he want them both. He thought about his ex, the-DJ-who-must-not-be-named, and how he was doing fine now after Seth with his two boyfriends. (Not that Seth noticed or anything.) Maybe that was possible.

“You have to be the bigger person here.” Randy took another swig of his beer. “I’ll help you, but you need to make up your mind.”

* * *

“Looks like a promising night, boss,” Enzo said as he made his first cocktail of the night, a Miss Elizabeth with champagne and club soda. “We’re playing Mania 8 tonight, right?”

“That’s what’s on the schedule for tonight,” Roman replied. While Mania Mondays weren’t as popular as Wednesdays, it was Roman’s favorite day of the week. Especially since Seth had texted him to say that he, Natalya, and Randy were stopping by for drinks tonight. “You good to handle the bar tonight with Cass if I get sidetracked?”

Enzo grinned. He’d been on the receiving end of Roman’s date reviews for the past few weeks, so Roman figured that he put two and two together in his head by now. “Why? Hot date later on?”

“I can hope for that much.” Roman clapped his bartender on the back as he walked past him to the kitchen area. “Hey, Ambrose. Look sharp.”

“Huh?” Dean looked up from where he was cutting cheese to melt into queso appetizers for the night. “What am I looking sharp for?”

“Seth’s coming over with a couple’a work buddies tonight, and I want you to meet him.” Roman was careful not to lean on the counter, or Dean (sanitary to a fault) would have to disinfect the entire prep table over again. “You can spare a few minutes to meet him, right? I’ve told him about you.”

“All good things, I hope?” Dean asked, putting down the knife and taking the blue latex glove off of his right hand before wrapping it around Roman’s waist. “Surprised that I’m only just now meeting the guy. What has it been since y’all two first went out? Month or so?”

“‘Bout that,” Roman agreed, hugging Dean back from the side and pressing a kiss into his hair. “Be nice, okay? He’s not a replacement; we talked about this.”

“I know, I know.” Dean turned and kissed Roman on the cheek before letting go. “You lemme know when Officer Dreamboat is out there and I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Roman smiled and headed back out to the front with a wave. “You’re the best, man!”

“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know!”

* * *

Seth was actually looking forward to going out with Randy and Natalya to The Arm Bar, if only because he was going to have a completely clear conscience by the end of the night. Randy offering to foot his entire bill if he actually went through with the plan only sweetened the deal.

“You pull Roman aside and tell him first. Easier to do since he’ll be in the front, right?” Seth nodded in the passenger’s seat as Randy drove the two of them from Seth’s house directly there. Natalya was coming later with her husband after they got dinner somewhere else. “Right. So you get him alone somewhere, and you tell him everything. _Everything_ \- I don’t give a fuck if Punk has his wife poison my coffee or something; you let him know exactly how this all went down.”

“And I ask to see Dean after that,” Seth recited, remembering what he and Randy had talked about before. “Keep Roman there to calm him down, but be direct.”

“ _Very_ direct.”

“ _Very_ direct.” Seth sighed, running a hand through his hair. He figured it would be easier for Dean to recognize him with his hair down, even though Roman had seen it both ways. “And you said that if something goes wrong, you’ll back me up, right?”

“‘Course I will,” Randy assured him, pulling into the parking lot next to The Arm Bar. “You just stick with the plan, be direct -”

“ _Very_ direct -”

“Yep, and everything will go just fine.”

He and Randy walked in calmly, same as before, though Seth’s heart was beating a mile a minute. He understood the plan, of course, but he wasn’t exactly sure _when_ he should do it. Was it better to be polite and wait until he and Randy ordered drinks, or just do it immediately after Roman saw them at the bar? If something went wrong, though, that’s a conversation with Natalya that he did _not_ want to have with her tomorrow morning.

As soon as Randy sat down, he immediately swiveled in his chair to look at the flat-screen just above the right side of the bar. “Oh, shit! They’ve got Mania 8 playing! Look, favorite match of all time: The Hitman and -”

“Rowdy Roddy Piper,” a strong voice finished behind them. Randy only looked back for a half-second while Seth turned around to see Roman standing behind the bar, beaming. “Intercontinental title match. Drinks to start off with?”

“One of those Goldust things,” Randy said, eyes still fixed on the screen.

Roman nodded, looking down and writing ‘GD’ on a receipt before looking back up at Seth. “And for you? I can offer you something sweet, but it’s not available until much later…”

“We need to talk,” Seth blurted out, feeling himself turn a little red. “Alone, maybe?”

“Of course, no problem.” Whatever Roman was thinking he was going to hear, he was handling potentially hearing _that_ better than Seth thought he would once he found out what was really going on. “I’ll let you in by the kitchen and we can talk in the hallway.” He beckoned Seth to follow him to a door next to the kitchen window. “Got someone I want you to meet back here anyway.”

“Can that wait until after we talk?” Seth asked quietly, Roman holding the door open for him as he walked in first and cast an aside look at the double doors leading into the kitchen. Roman must not have heard him, because he walked right in there.

 _Oh, god. Holy shit. I need Randy._ He looked back at the door leading back out into the dining and bar area, figuring that he could make a break for it back there if he went at that exact moment.

“Seth?”

He’d recognize Dean’s voice anywhere at this point. Seth felt himself turn bright red as he turned around to look at who Roman had wanted him to meet. “Dean,” he managed to croak out, reaching out to shake his hand (his mind was trying to be polite or keep faking it, apparently) as Roman glided through the doors again back out into the hallway.

“You’ve met?” Roman asked, looking between the two of them, confused.

“Of course,” Dean replied in a dangerously low voice as Seth struggled to find the words that he and Randy had rehearsed all weekend long. “ _Tyler_ and I are _great_ friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Miss Elizabeth is an [Yves St. Laurent St. Germain cocktail](http://boulderlocavore.com/dams-yves-saint-laurent-the-retrospective-exhibit-and-palettes-ysl-pre-fixe-menu/) with champagne, because she's classy.
> 
> Randy is basically an author avatar at this point - that's my favorite match too.


	11. And So the Balance Shifts

Roman was the first to speak up. “I’m confused,” he admitted, looking between the other two men and noticing after the second look at Dean that his best friend was clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. “Whoa, okay - there’s no need for that -”

“Who the _fuck_ do you think you are?” Dean spat out, lunging at Seth before Roman could throw his arms out to stop him.

“Dean -”

“You think you can fuckin’ play games with me? Huh?” Roman struggled to keep Dean back, grinding his heels into the linoleum floor as Seth backed up against the wall. “What the fuck were you doin’ out there, huh? Takin’ advantage of our kindness - let me go!” Dean yelled in Roman’s face, flecks of spittle flying out of Dean’s mouth and landing on his cheeks. “Let me at ‘im!”

“Go back in the kitchen,” Roman ordered, trying to push him back through the double doors to get Seth out unscathed. “Get back in the kitchen, Dean.”

“No, fuck you!” Dean tried to duck under Roman’s arms as Seth slid along the wall, not taking his eyes off the two of them as he got closer to the door. “You better not leave this fuckin’ hallway. You leave this hallway and I’ll bash your fuckin’ brains in on the bar -”

The door from the bar area then opened, Roman turning his head slightly to see that it was Seth’s friend, Randy, the one he’d come in with tonight. He had his hand at a holster on his waist, and Roman had to bite back a groan. This was too much shit to deal with in one night, much less that past five minutes.

“Something the problem back here, gentlemen?” Randy asked, apparently not caring whether or not he was off-duty at the moment. Roman kept his hold on Dean as he snarled at Randy.

“You a cop too?” Dean asked, eyes flickering down to Randy's holster like Roman had. “Probably put the fucker up to it.”

“Officer Rollins was participating in a city-wide prostitution sting operation on Wednesday nights.” Roman saw Seth visibly relax and sag down the wall out of the corner of his eye. “Legally, he was not allowed to divulge this information to you, sir.”

“That was the only fake thing,” Seth spoke up, and Roman realized that this was what Seth wanted to talk to him about in the first place. “I really do ca -”

“You shut up,” Dean interrupted him, turning back to face Seth. “Like you haven’t fucking said enough.”

“Don’t talk to him like that,” Randy said, and for a second, Roman thought that he was going to have to throw himself on Dean to keep him from attacking either guy, until Dean pulled back on his own, taking a step back toward the kitchen.

He took a deep breath before speaking again, and Roman couldn’t remember the last time his voice had been so purposefully controlled. “I want my money back.”

“You’ll get your money back.” Seth’s voice was just as calm. “I have the bill on my dresser at home. You will get it back.”

“Give it to Roman when you see him again.” All eyes turned to Roman after that, and he found himself recoiling and looking away. Dean pushed open the kitchen doors to finally go back like Roman had asked him to, before stopping and glaring at Roman, trying to convey a message with his eyes.

“ _If_ you ever see him again.”

* * *

Roman watched as Seth stared after Dean, his heart sinking in his chest. He’d suspected that something was up with this so-called Tyler for a while now, but nothing seemed pressing enough of an issue to actually have to act on his gut instinct.

Then he remembered that Seth was the one who had assured him that Dean would be fine handling this by himself. And Roman never questioned how Seth was so confident in that answer. Of course _he’d_ fucking know.

“I have to ask why,” Roman said quietly, watching as Seth’s eyes peeled away from the door to face him as he began to speak. “Why you started stuff with him knowing it was a lie, why you didn’t tell me…”

“I was… I was being selfish.” Seth bit his lower lip, looking back away at the floor and staring into space down there. “I thought I could make it work, but so much happened in the same week… and I didn’t want to tell Nattie ‘no’ about the date when I know she was just trying to be nice.”

Roman could understand where that made sense, at least a little. He’d burnt the candle at both ends himself too many times to count, trying to make things work, but it was usually only him that got hurt in the end. “Then why not just come out and tell _me_? Was everything that you told me a lie too?”

Seth snapped out of it at that. “ _No_ ,” he answered emphatically, looking Roman in the eye. “I never lied to you; you never asked me if I was Tyler, so -”

“Semantics,” Randy jumped in, stopping Seth before he started digging his own grave. “Look,” he continued, getting directly in between Roman and Seth and looking at Roman. “this has been fun, really. Livened up my night, considering Seth had a plan to go by and, well, that sure as fuck didn’t happen like it should’ve.”

He dug in his back pocket and produced his wallet, Roman noticing a badge in the front as Randy took out a twenty-dollar bill. “I already ordered, and I’m sure Nattie’s gonna be getting something whenever she arrives -”

“Hers is on the house.” At least one of them was honest.

“Yeah, whatever.” Randy held the bill out until Roman reached out and took it. “Keep the rest for your troubles. C’mon, Seth.”

Seth looked at Roman as Randy walked ahead back out into the main bar area, silent apology obvious in his eyes. Roman lifted his chin in reply, less of an acceptance and more of a silent “leave”.

He had to go talk to Dean, pull him out of the kitchen for the night, and maybe head home early himself. Dean had never left him, no matter what had happened, and he wasn’t about to leave him in his time of need.

“You were right,” Dean said as Roman entered the kitchen, handing the plate of tortilla chips off to a passing worker as he pulled off his blue latex gloves. “How do you manage to be right all the time?”

“Guess I’m just that unlucky,” Roman said with a soft, fake smile as Dean pulled him in close. “I think we need to take the rest of the night off, though. Let’s go home.”


	12. Money-Back Guarantee

“So, how do you plan on fixing this?” Randy asked, lying on top of the covers, hands behind his head. “You’ve got the guy’s money, but you kinda broke his heart into a thousands pieces anyway.”

Seth frowned from where he was coming out of the bathroom, pulling on the hoodie he’d bought last month. “So much for helping me fix this, huh?” He sat down on the bed opposite Randy, watching as Kevin dashed past him to go after the hand Randy now had lolling off the side of the bed. “You just keep reminding me that I fucked up, like I don’t already know.” _Like it’s not already making me want to put my head through the wall._

“See, I know you know,” Randy said, leaning down slightly and palming Kevin like a basketball to pick him up and put him on the bed. “But I don’t think you _know_. I think you’re just acutely aware you fucked up but are just like ‘welp, this is it’.”

“You really think I’d settle like that?” Seth grimaced as he turned away to get socks from the dresser, already knowing what answer he was going to get from that.

“Seth, the reason why you keep losing is _because_ you settle. You want these guys? Go out and get ‘em!” Randy said, exasperated. Kevin yipped in what Seth assumed was agreement. “I’m pretty sure they’re fucking anyway, if they sleep in the same bed, like guys, and are as close as you say.”

“You don’t know that.”

Randy raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly as Kevin hopped up on his stomach. “How much you willin’ to risk on that? One hundred dollars?”

Seth scowled and looked away.

* * *

“You think he’s really gonna go out with you again, after all this?” Dean asked, looking at Roman lying next to him on their bed. “I think I might’ve scared him ‘way for good.” He considered the implications of that as Roman pursed his lips before mumbling out something else. “Sorry.”

Roman shrugged. “If you love something, let it go. If it doesn’t come back, it’s one’a them punk-ass cops with a nice ass and no brain.” Dean snorted.

“You’re all heart, Ro.” Dean shuffled in closer to him, relaxing as soon as he felt Roman’s arm go around him to hold him there. “I guess this’ll teach me to not be as nice to strangers anymore.”

“Nah,” Roman said, rubbing up and down Dean’s arm in a way that almost had him purring like a cat. _Maybe we need a pet instead of looking for other guys,_ Dean wondered. “You have a good heart; that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Plus, Seth probably skipped dinner that night anyway, so you did feed the hungry.”

It was Dean’s turn to shrug. “It felt right at the time, anyway.” He looked up at Roman. “If you want to go out with him again, honestly, I wouldn’t mind. You really do like the guy.”

“I don’t like liars.” Roman’s tone was firm.

“But you like _him_ , and he didn’t lie to you, right? He didn’t really lie that much to me, if we’re being honest: he was just a normal-sounding guy who just happened to be out there on Wednesday nights. Hell, I think he even _told_ me he had another job, a day job. That would be him working at the station, I guess.” Dean moved so his head was on Roman’s chest. “I’m just mad ‘cause… well, I feel like I _should_ be.”

“You feel played, which you were. But I have to ask - a hundred dollars, Dean? Really?”

Dean blushed and turned his face closer into Roman’s armpit. “Leave me alone.”

“You know that you don’t have to pay people to have sex with you, right? This ass is yours for free.” Roman laughed at his own joke, his chest rising and falling against Dean’s cheek as Dean started laughing as well.

“You’re being dumb,” Dean said, turning back over to kiss Roman gently on the lips. “I should charge for having to listen to your corny-ass jokes instead.”

There was a knock on the door. “You order takeout while I was in the shower?” Dean asked, getting up and throwing a shirt on over his tank top before heading to the door, grabbing his wallet from the dresser on the way there.

“I didn’t order anything,” Roman called as Dean swung open the front door, one hand in his wallet.

On the other side of the door stood Officer Seth Rollins.

* * *

“How did you get here?” Roman heard Dean say, springing out of bed to see Dean leaning on the front door and looking decidedly not murderous toward Seth. “Don’t tell me you seriously memorized how to get here after I brought you. That’s creepy as shit.”

“Looked up your address in the county records,” Seth said calmly, reaching into his back pocket and producing a single one-hundred dollar bill and holding it out to Dean. “Had to know where to send the money in case I never saw either of you two again - then I figured it was probably nobler to deliver it in person.”

“Well, glad you’re noble all of a sudden,” Dean snarked, taking the money and putting it in his open wallet before moving to shut the door again. “Don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya -”

Roman threw a hand out before Dean could close it all the way. “Wait a minute,” he said, getting an exasperated look from Dean in return. “Seth, do you have time to come in and talk to us?”

“That’s what I came over here for, actually,” Seth replied. “I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut and let you two do the talking, if you want.”

That (and the money, obviously) seemed to satisfy Dean enough to open up the door a little wider to let Seth through. “Thank you,” Seth mumbled, ducking into the hallway before he likely realized that he wasn’t told where to go once he was inside.

“Living room’s to your left,” Roman offered, and Seth was hot on his heels as he and Dean walked in there, Roman already heading to the strong liquor while Dean took up residence on the couch.

Seth stayed standing even after Roman came back in with a tumbler half-filled with this peanut butter and raspberry jam bourbon he’d found on the specialty markets a few months back. The obvious and heavy tension didn’t seem to be bothering Dean too much - probably because he was the current cause of it - but it was making Seth physically nervous. The poor guy was practically twitching to keep from running from the door.

“So, Seth,” Roman began, sensing that the two of them alone were at a stalemate. “What do you think we want to talk about?”

“Everything,” Seth answered vaguely, looking at Dean, who took that moment to look back up at Seth. “Though, especially, why I kinda strung you guys along for so long.”

“You didn’t ‘kinda’ string us along, you did.” Dean leaned forward on the couch. “Why’re you still standing? Lookin’ for a quick getaway over there?”

“No,” Seth replied, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “I just don’t feel comfortable sitting s’all.”

Dean scooted over to one side of the couch and patted the spot next to him. “Pop a squat over here. I don’t bite. Well, unless you’re into that kinda thing.”

Seth bit his lip and cast a nervous look at Roman, who nodded encouragement as he went over to sit down next to Dean, keeping a good half-foot of distance between the two of them. “Alright, I’m sitting…”

“Great.” Dean bridged the gap and reached his arm right around Seth’s shoulders, yanking him into Dean’s side. If Roman didn’t see that coming, Seth sure didn’t, given his panicked expression. “Is it okay if I call you Seth? I know you’re used to something else from me, but ‘asshole’ isn’t nice and, well, you’re Seth, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Seth said hesitantly, looking at Roman for help that Roman himself wasn’t even sure he could give. He took a swig of his bourbon.

“Great. Thanks, Seth. We’re off to a great start here.” Dean kept his arm around Seth’s shoulder, looking up at Roman and tilting his chin up. “You got anything you wanna start off with? I know you got to talk to him a li’l bit after I left, but I’ll let you have first say here.”

Roman shook his head. “I’ve said all I think I _can_ say about this. Besides, I don’t really feel that I got screwed up in all this. You said you were being honest with me the entire time, right, Seth?”

Seth nodded earnestly. “Nothing but the truth, every date, all the time.”

“Then I’m fine.” Roman replied, being as honest as he could be in that moment. This whole thing had yanked him out of the honeymoon period with Seth, sure, but he had no reason outside of his relationship with Dean to actively _hate_ the guy. Arguably, they weren’t exclusive in the first place. “Nothing else to add over here.”

“Great.” Dean tapped Seth’s shoulder with the hand he had around him until Seth turned his way. “Since I already got all’a my rage out on you earlier, all I have left to say is that I am extremely sorry that I wasted your time when you could’ve been pickin’ up real creeps. I really thought we had something good goin’, but since that was probably to scope me out -”

“Why would I keep going, then?” Seth interjected, looking confused. For someone that was cowering in fear not more than three hours ago, he sure had a pair of brass balls now. “I kissed you first. And then you kissed back.”

Roman had to hold back a grimace as he thought back to how he’d treated Dean that night.

“So that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. “I still feel lied to.”

“You were lied to about my name, what I did for a living, mostly,” Seth explained, “but the feelings were real. If we had met in a different way, like Roman and I had, I can almost guarantee that I would’ve still fallen for you.”

Dean pulled his arm away from Seth’s shoulders, letting it rest on his thigh as he sat forward. “But you found Roman instead.”

“I found _both_ of you,” Seth corrected him, and Roman was once again surprised at where Seth was going when this was intended to be an us-versus-him-type of conversation. If this was going where Roman _thought_ it was -

“Let’s be real: you two share a bed, are practically attached at the hip, and both like guys - you guys have hooked up at least once or twice before.”

Roman had to pick his jaw up from the floor. He absolutely fucking went there, and he was right next to - no, _against_ \- Dean, who had a tendency to put his fist in people’s faces and answer questions later. But to his surprise, Dean just laughed.

“And if we have? What does that matter when _you’re_ the one who doesn’t have that relationship with either of us? Just ‘cause you fucked me doesn’t mean that you’re at the level I have Roman at. No one’s on Roman’s level with me.” Roman felt a small surge of pride at that, looking at Seth for his reply.

“I know I’m not. But the common denominator between both you and Roman’s outside relationship is me.” Seth turned away from Dean to look back at Roman. “And I was wondering if we could close this love triangle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [PB&J liquor](http://www.firebox.com/product/7448/Peanut-Butter-and-Jam-Old-Fashioned?aff=512&awc=550_1453512706_f8ced54b4caaa79abb9fbd299c191223&utm_source=AffiliateWindow&utm_medium=Affiliates&utm_content=Skimlinks&utm_campaign=TextLink) is out there, yo.


	13. The One With the Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, you pervs - the rating's changed and new tags have been added. Here's your porn.

“Excuse me?” Roman was dumbfounded. Sure, Roman wasn’t that fazed that Seth (as Tyler) had hooked up with Dean, especially considering that he had been planning to do the same that very night before shit hit the fan, but this was an unexpected suggestion.

Not that he was entirely averse to the idea of getting his hands on both guys in front of him at the same time, but still.

Seth gave him a look that practically said ‘did I fucking stutter?’. “I’m saying, even if only in a sexual way, the three of us can be together. I know I’m not exactly the sexiest person that could be offering you guys this -”

“Now, nobody said that,” Dean cut in, looking between Roman and Seth, raising his eyebrows when Dean looked at him. “Neither of us said that you were unattractive.”

“Yeah, but, I mean…” Seth kinda slumped a little. “You said that the guy that Roman was interested in - me - was ‘slightly above average’ in your eyes. I know that I look different with makeup compared to right now…”

Dean shook his head. “I was feelin’ some type’a way. Trust me, you look just as good without all the makeup as you do with it all. Actually, kinda better, since I don’t have to worry about getting it all over my face.” Roman watched as Dean leaned in close to Seth. “The real question is, do you think that we’re hot enough for _you_?”

Aw, hell.

“Believe me,” Seth said, moving one of his legs around one of Dean’s so he was half-straddling the other. “It’s kinda all I’ve been able to think about for weeks now.”

“Well, Ro, if you’re down for it,” Dean said as he wrapped his arms around Seth’s lower back and Roman became acutely aware of the boner pushing against the zipper of his jeans, “I say we take the nice officer back to the bedroom and have him be a whore again… just for us, this time.”

* * *

Seth wasn’t sure when Roman agreed to the sex, as his mind kind of fuzzed out when Dean’s hands were sitting just above his ass, but the  next thing he knew, Dean had him hoisted up over his shoulder and carrying him the short distance from the living room to the master bedroom.

“You got anything you want us to do special for you?” Dean asked as he dropped Seth pretty unceremoniously onto the bed, his head bouncing back up off of the mattress. “We don’t got fancy shit or nothin’, but Ro’s pretty good with his tongue -”

“He knows,” Roman said with a smug smile as Seth remembered the time Roman and him made out with the front seats tilted back in Seth’s car.

“Ohoho.” Dean smirked and looked at Roman with big eyes. “Don’t tell me you already went down south on him and didn’t say nothin’.”

“Does it really matter if he had?” Seth heard himself asking as Roman busied himself with taking off Seth’s jeans, rolling them down his thighs slowly.

Dean leaned down and pressed a kiss to Seth’s forehead, moving to the other side of the bed. “It does. It really does.”

Seth turned his head to follow Dean’s movement as Roman continued working on Seth’s lower body, taking his clothes off carefully like Seth was a present and he needed to save the wrapping paper. “Can’t wait to get under these,” Roman murmured, cupping Seth’s bulge in his hand as Dean took off his shirt to reveal a tank top underneath before beginning on undoing his belt.

“I kinda want… I kinda want you on my face,” Seth managed to breathe out, keeping his eyes on Dean while lifting his hips up so Roman could take his boxer briefs down. “I _really_ want you to sit on my face.”

Dean chuckled and looked at Roman. “You hearin’ what I’m hearin’?”

Roman smirked and nodded at his partner before untangling Seth’s underwear from around his ankles and surging up to press a kiss to the side of Seth’s swollen cock. “Thought we were using you, Seth, not the other way around.”

Something twanged in Seth’s groin at Roman’s touch, making him nod in agreement almost immediately. As long as he got them on him, somehow, he’d be happy. Bend him, use him, shape him - it didn’t matter much to Seth at the moment as long as he got a good fucking in return.

“Good boy,” Roman said, stroking Seth’s cheek as Dean shoved his own pants and underwear down in one fell swoop, making his half-hard dick bob slightly with the release from under  Dean’s clothes. “You want Dean’s cock in your mouth while I get you ready down here?” He waited until Seth had barely managed a single nod before continuing. “Of course you do.”

Seth whimpered as Roman pushed up the hem of his shirt, kissing the thatched trail of dark hair down to his cock before giving it a lick and burying his mouth between Seth’s thighs. Meanwhile, Dean obliged on Roman’s request, balancing with one leg up on the bed and one hand on his cock, leading it to Seth’s mouth before Seth leaned forward and took it right in.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much going on at once sexually. Dean let Seth take the lead on blowing him, not pushing Seth further down his length with a hand to the back of his head, instead just telling him when he wanted Seth to lick more, move further, maybe hollow his cheeks and suck harder.

Roman was a completely different story. Looking at him, Seth would’ve never assumed that Roman would be a particularly vigorous fuck, but now he knew that Dean had good reason to be disappointed if Roman had gone down on him before. It was hard for Seth to focus on giving head when he had what he was pretty sure was the best feeling he’d ever had on his hole going on not four feet away.

“God, Roman,” he gasped out, pulling away from Dean slowly, feeling the wet slap of Dean’s dick against his skin as he turned his head to see Roman looking back at him, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Where did you learn to - oh, _fuck_!”

“Now that’s what I wanted to see,” Dean said with a grin as he pumped himself where Seth could see out of the corner of his eye. “C’mon, babe. Make ‘im _scream_.”

It hit Seth later, after he had moaned and whimpered and screamed until his voice was hoarse, that he could’ve gotten this all way sooner if he’d just said something.

 _Oh well,_ he thought to himself as Dean wedged him in between his and Roman’s naked, spent bodies, curling up to rest his head on Seth’s chest. _There’s really no time like the present._


	14. From Morning to Night

Dean never considered himself to be an early riser by any standard, but he could always count on the smell of food to wake him up in the morning no matter what time it was. And right now, the smell of something apple cinnamon-y and a savory, meaty something else had him rolling out of bed and heading toward the kitchen to see what all the fuss was about.

“You’re gonna wake him up!” Dean heard Seth say in a loud whisper as he walked down the hallway. “I wanna give him breakfast in bed.”

“Too late,” Dean called as he rounded the corner into the living room, looking at Roman and Seth in the gap of the breakfast nook. “What’re you two doin’ in here without me?”

Roman looked pleased, waiting until all three of them were in the small kitchen together before kissing Dean good morning. “Making our favorite head cook breakfast.”

“It was supposed to be _in bed_ ,” Seth grumbled, crossing his arms over his bare chest and looking at the serving tray that Roman had likely gotten down for him. “But it’ll be just as good in here, I guess.”

“You know,” Dean said, cocking his head at Seth and smiling, “usually you feed guests first. ‘Sup with all this for me?”

“Consider it another apology present from the both of us,” Roman cut in, opening up the cabinet to get out plates for the three of them. “Where do you keep the extra aprons? Seth isn’t getting near the bacon ‘til he either puts a shirt on or gets an apron.”

“Aprons are for the weak,” Seth declared, grinning and making Dean grin in return.

Dean turned around and headed to the linen closet down the hall, beckoning Seth after him with a hand. “Looks like you’re gonna be weak for the time being.” He opened up the closet and took three different aprons from the middle shelf, unfolding them one by one. There was a plain black one, one that said ‘kiss and/or fuck the cook’ (Dean's personal favorite), and a frilly patchwork number underneath them both.

“I’ll take that one,” Seth said, holding the last apron up to himself before putting the neck strap on over his head. “Feels the most ‘me’.”

“Suit yourself.” He folded the other two aprons back up and put them in the back in the linen closet only to turn around and see Seth still standing there with his back turned towards him.

“Mind tying me up?” Seth said, laughter in his voice. Dean laughed out loud and tied the apron straps in a bow just above Seth’s ass. “I know you normally save that kind of stuff for at least the third date, but still.”

“Quit being a perv,” Dean admonished lightly, smacking Seth’s ass to get him walking back into the kitchen area, walking into the kitchen behind him to see Roman with his finger in the baked oatmeal. “Hey! Hands off breakfast!”

“Can’t help it,” Roman replied, not looking the least bit apologetic as he popped his finger in his mouth. “It just tastes so good.”

Seth chuckled. “If I had a dollar for every time -”

“You’d have a million dollars, yeah, yeah.” Roman chuckled and pulled Seth in for a quick kiss. “Don’t you look cute in your apron.”

Seth shrugged, picking at the trim around the apron collar. “Could use a little more glitter, but it’ll do for now.” He looked back at Dean, smiling. “You ready to eat?”

Dean winked. “Born ready.”

* * *

Seth waved as he came into The Arm Bar around seven-thirty, Randy right behind him as they made their way toward the bar. “Wing Wednesday, right? Two orders!” He sat on the stool directly in front of Roman, beaming. “And make it snappy.”

“With that tone?” Roman said, obviously trying to fight back a smile as Randy focused on the drink menu after sitting next to Seth. “You know we have the right to refuse service, wise guy. Use the magic word.”

“Please?” Seth batted his eyes at Roman, knowing that the double-layer of mascara he’d applied before Randy picked him up would do the trick nicely. “I wanna be elbow-deep in wings as soon as possible.”

“Boy, if I talked to _my_ girlfriend like that, I could pretty much guarantee sleeping on the couch that night,” Randy said, looking up and sliding the drink menu away. “Any chance I can get my hands on a Goldust tonight, Ro? I need a pick-me-up.”

“No problemo, man,” Roman said with a nod, grabbing a pen and writing down Randy’s drink order on a blank receipt before heading down the bar toward the kitchen. “And there’s no telling if Seth’ll end up on the couch tonight if he keeps this up!”

Seth watched with a smirk as Roman slid the receipt into the kitchen window, seeing a calloused hand that he knew so well drag it down to the other side. He figured it was only a matter of time before Dean peeked up to see where Seth was and wave hello back.

Sure enough, about ten seconds later, there was his other boyfriend in the kitchen window, waving down the bar at Seth and Randy. “What’s good, Sarge? Is Seth causin’ you any trouble?”

“Nothing but the usual, Dean,” Randy called, waving back. “Can you double-dip my wings in the buffalo for me?”

“‘Course I can!” Dean replied, ducking back down into the kitchen with a thumbs-up. By Seth’s own calculations, Dean would be out of the kitchen with his and Randy’s wings in tow and a kiss for Seth in ten minutes, give or take. It wasn’t like Dean hadn’t seen him in a while, but Dean was nothing but affectionate (even in public, which pleased Seth more than he wanted to admit) when it came to him and Roman.

“Got a Goldust for my favorite sergeant,” Roman said, putting down a drink napkin before setting Randy’s drink on top of it in front of him. “You let me know if you need anything else, alright, man? It’s no problem at all.”

“You tell me that every time, Roman,” Randy said with a smile, picking up his cocktail and taking a sip. Seth had no idea how Randy managed to look even more manly with a fruity drink in his hand, but it worked out. “I’ll let you know.”

“And for you,” Roman continued, taking out a couple of bottles out from under the bar, pointing one of them stem-first at Seth. “You get to be the first person to try a Gorilla Monsoon.”

Seth grimaced. “I liked him as an announcer, but as a drink, he sounds gross.”

“You like Manhattans?” Roman asked, Seth nodding in reply. “Then you’ll be down with this. Reverse Manhattan: heavy on the vermouth. How it’s s’posed to be, actually.” Seth watched as Roman made his drink for him, garnishing it with a single Amarena cherry before placing it in front of him the same way he had for Randy. “Tada - a Gorilla Monsoon.”

“Looks good enough for me,” Seth said, picking up the old-fashioned glass and rotating it in his hand to look from all angles. Even though he had drank a little in college and was dating the owners of a bar, alcohol wasn’t a big enough part of his diet to warrant him knowing too much about it. If it tasted good, he drank it. That was about it.

He took a sip. It was sweeter than he’d expected, given the rich golden hue, but not overly so. He kind of wanted to fish the cherry out with his fingers and eat it first, though. “Tastes good,” he said, giving Roman a thumbs-up. “My compliments to the bartender.”

“And what about the chef?” Dean said as he walked out of the kitchen doors, carrying a serving tray with two orders of chicken wing specials (one double-dipped) on top. “What do I get outta all this?”

“A kiss on the cheek and the satisfaction of a job well done?” Seth suggested, pulling Dean in for just that after he set down the platters in front of Seth and Randy. “Thanks for getting our orders done first.”

Dean shrugged. “Gotta feed the men in blue. You doin’ alright, Randy?”

“Right as rain,” Randy replied, taking another drink of his cocktail. “We still on to head to that hardcore show on Saturday night?”

“You know it,” Dean replied, and Seth and Roman groaned simultaneously. Ever since Randy and Dean had bonded over their loves of gratuitous violence and wrestling, the two of them were out at any event that guaranteed blood in the entire state.

“Just make sure that you’re back by the morning, s’all I ask,” Roman reminded him, taking Randy’s empty glass from him after he set it back down on the drink napkin. “Show or no show, you still have work in the morning.”

“Yessir,” Dean replied with a mock salute, kissing Seth one more time before heading back around the bar and giving the same to Roman. “I’ll see you later, man,” he said to Randy, slapping him five before heading back to the kitchen and Roman back down at the other end of the bar to serve another patron down there.

Randy looked at Seth and smiled. “Aren’t you glad that I told you to come here in the first place?”

Seth smiled back. “Sure am.” Even though he didn’t first go to The Arm Bar in the most honest of circumstances, he couldn’t imagine himself now anywhere (or with any _one_ ) else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *JR voice* It's all over, folks.
> 
> Thanks for all your continued support with kudos, comments, and the like! This kinda got... out of hand, to say the least, but I wouldn't have written it any other way.
> 
> The last drink, a Gorilla Monsoon, is exactly what Roman said it was: a [Reverse Manhattan](http://www.saveur.com/article/recipes/reverse-manhattan).


End file.
